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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587177">Something Like a Star</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/recollins/pseuds/recollins'>recollins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aria DiMaggio [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Violence, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I suck at tags, Just read the notes, Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, domestic abuse, original storyline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:01:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>280,283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/recollins/pseuds/recollins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aria DiMaggio hadn't planned on uprooting her life to move to Quantico, but those things just sort of happen when Jason Gideon sets his mind to something. Trying to put her broken past behind her, the life as an intern for the BAU turns out to be exactly what she needed. It's a constant whirlwind of chaos and crime, but with her unique set of skills and a fiery temper to boot, Aria has no problem fitting in with the team. Especially when it comes to the adorably attractive Dr. Reid and the growing crush she's trying to ignore. </p><p>Between her crazy parents, an ex she just can't shake, and the growing suspicions surrounding her brother's seemingly-accidental death, Aria begins to realize she can never outrun her past. Even with three years and 1,700 miles between them, her demons still haunt her and sooner or later she'll have to face them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aria DiMaggio [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>845</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Resonate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I really suck at tags (and summaries), so it's easier to explain a bit about the story here before you jump into the world I've built. There are a few things to keep in mind as you read and as the story progresses:</p><p>-I try to follow the episodes accurately but, for the sake of including Aria, some interactions and situations have been adjusted accordingly. It's not gonna be an exact copy of CM. I've mapped out Aria's storyline all the way from S3 to S14 (working on S15 as we speak) so believe me when I tell you this has had a lot of thought go into it to make it as close to CM as possible without being an exact copy. </p><p>-Though I do follow most of the scripting for the show, I cut a lot out that isn't relevant to Aria or my own story arc. I'm not out to transcribe the show so some moments may be left out or skipped over for the sake of chapters not being 50k words. If somethings confusing, I recommend watching the episode it's based off of first to see if that helps with the progression. </p><p>-If y'all have never tried to write a CM fic, let me tell you that it's a pain trying to follow the 'timeline' of a season. I do my best by basing the date off the air date of that episode. If a date's mentioned in the episode (or one near it) I try to play off that as well. Just keep in mind that some things might not match up with the show because, chronologically speaking, time is made up and dates don't matter in the CM universe so I did my best to patch it together. </p><p>-Some major story arcs have been changed (namely the Maeve and Savannah storylines) to accommodate my own storyline for Aria and other OC's into the show. Many themes have remained the same but events are shifted, people are replaced, and a few things have been omitted completely. I've replaced them with my own story arc, but if that's a sensitive point and something that might bother you, just a heads up. </p><p>-The situation with Aria and her ex is based off some (not all) of my own experiences with my own ex. I actually started writing it out per my therapist as a way to work through what I went through, and as it became a full-fledged thing I worked it into Aria's storyline as well. It may be triggering for some readers (tags are listed for warnings) and I'll be sure to list the warnings in the beginning of the applicable chapters. </p><p>Thanks so much for reading all this. I hope you truly enjoy this story, and please feel free to reach out to me with any questions, comments, requests, or complaints. </p><p>&lt;3, RE</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The silence on the other end of the call was deafening. </p>
<p>If I knew my sister – and trust me, I did – she had <i>something</i> to say about the bombshell I’d just dropped in her lap. Though I made myself keep packing, I felt my heart skipping beats as I waited for her to say something... <i>anything</i>, at this point. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, you’re <i>what</i>?” <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/614123876706828288/full-name-aubrianna-eloise-taylor-dob-february">Aubrianna</a> finally laughed in disbelief; on instinct I rolled my eyes in the direction of her voice. As I stuffed the last of my clothes into one suitcase, I grabbed my phone off the bed and took it with me into the bathroom, snagging my next suitcase on the way.   </p>
<p>“I’m moving to Virginia tomorrow," I repeated, and again my sister snorted in response. "Why is that funny to you?"</p>
<p>"<a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/614121740199706624/full-name-aria-isabella-dimaggio-dob-may-19th">Aria</a>, you’ve done some crazy shit before, but I mean... why the hell are you just dropping everything and moving <i>three thousand miles</i>?" </p>
<p>As much as I hated to admit when my sister made a good point, she <i>did</i> ask the one thing that'd been going through my mind over the last month. The nerves and anxiety I'd been pushing down came back to the surface and I took a shaking breath, focusing on trying to fit my hair dryer into my nearly-full suitcase instead of the panic threatening to overwhelm me. Again. </p>
<p>"I was offered a position with the BAU. That doesn't -”</p>
<p>“With the what?”</p>
<p>“I - it’s the BAU. Behavioral Analysis Unit. I already told you that.”</p>
<p>“I thought you said it was the FBI –“</p>
<p>“It <i>is</i> the FBI. It’s just a division of it, Aubri. I told you this last week -</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know, I know,” she huffed; I could feel <i>her</i> eyeroll from Colorado. “I just – I don’t get why this is so sudden. You’re in school for psychology and you’re dropping everything to join the FBI –”</p>
<p>“Job offers like this don’t just <i>happen</i>. Like, even after graduating I wouldn't just get handed a position."</p>
<p>"And that's not setting off any alarms?" she pointed out; again my stomach turned with my unease and I sat the phone on the counter, leaning over the sink to stare at myself as a wave of panic crashed through me. </p>
<p>I could <i>see</i> how wound up I was. I hadn't slept in over 24 hours – hardly at all the last month – and it was beginning to catch up with me. It felt like I’d been holding my breath the last thirty days, only catching it briefly as snippets of the unbelievable truth popped up: the plane ticket confirmation, the hotel reservation, even my transfer from the University of Washington to the University of Virginia had been taken care of. Almost immediately, though, I’d go back to waiting for the other shoe to drop with bated breath. </p>
<p>I was wound so tight, trying to hold myself and all my anxiety together that I was about ready to snap in half.  </p>
<p>Aubrianna had been pretty pissed when I’d called her late last night to fill her in completely, <i>especially</i> when she found out I’d known for a month I was moving across the country. Sure, I’d been mentioning bits of the job offer I’d received, but honestly, I hadn’t said anything to her until now because I’d been expecting everything to fall through. With the flight in just twelve hours, though, it seemed like everything was aligned to put me in Quantico tomorrow. </p>
<p>Jason Gideon was certainly a man of his word. </p>
<p>"It's not," I told her, keeping the worry out of my voice as I tried to convince both her and myself it was true. Finally I put myself back to packing, trying to keep myself busy. <i>Idle hands are the devil’s workshop</i>, I could practically hear my mom quipping at me. It was force of habit to keep myself occupied and right now I was thankful for that annoying phrase being ingrained into me.  </p>
<p>"So some guy says he's with the FBI, and tells you he'll give you some dream job with this elite group if you uproot your entire life... you're the super smart, big-brained college kid and you're telling me this all checks out?"</p>
<p>"He's not just <i>some guy</i>, Aubri. He’s <i>Supervisory Special Agent</i> Jason Gideon,” I deflected, ignoring the second half of her question as I wrangled the last of my bathroom essentials into the overfilled suitcase. “He's like, forerunner of the BAU. He basically created the team. My school bent over backwards to get him to speak for just an hour. Like, the auditorium was standing room only. He's a legend."</p>
<p>"And out of all the other wannabe FBI trainees in that packed room, he singled <i>you</i> out," she pressed; I barely stifled a sigh. </p>
<p>"It's not like he just closed his eyes, pointed a finger, and picked me out of the blue," I told her, beginning the serious fight of trying to get the damn suitcase shut. Aubrianna huffed and asked pointedly, </p>
<p>"Okay, then how <i>did</i> he end up picking you?"</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>
  <i>“Now,” Agent Gideon said, pressing his fingers together as he turned to face the group behind him. “Can anyone tell me why my team immediately dismissed the victim’s husband as a suspect?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The room exploded with hands eager to impress the legendary profiler in front of us. As they began to throw out their theories, I leaned closer to study the pictures. After a few moments, I tentatively put my hand up. After a minute or so of shooting down the incorrect answers being thrown out, Agent Gideon pointed to me and I sat up a little straighter to ask, </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Could you tell us the date the murder took place?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He quirked a smile, intrigued by my question, and nodded. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“April 11th, 2003.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>With a quick nod, I dove back into my laptop, typing furiously. A-ha! Waxing gibbous; my own theory checked out. My hand shot back up so fast I actually winced at the pain in my shoulder. I was the only hand going up at this point; instantly Agent Gideon turned and pointed at me again.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I take it by that look you’re pretty confident in your answer.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yes sir,” I promised. “The husband wasn’t considered a suspect because his clothes were mostly dry, and the eyewitness testimonies wouldn’t be credible.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Agent Gideon’s expression fell from amused to curious in a heartbeat. He blinked twice and a slow smile curled over his lips. He turned and made his way towards me, eyes sparking with an excitement that sent my heart racing even faster than before. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You’re absolutely right,” he said, surprise clear in his voice. “How on earth did you come to that conclusion?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>All eyes were on me now, and I shrunk just a hint in my seat as I rattled off my explanation.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Well, the photos of the husband being arrested by local police show his hair and clothes are dry, but it was raining that night. There was fresh mud at the door and then evidence someone left through the bedroom window. That means the husband would’ve had to leave through the window and then run around to the front of the house and come inside – he would’ve been muddy and soaked. His shirt was hardly wet, and there was almost no mud on his shoes. It’s much more likely that someone entered at the front door and then left from the bedroom window. That, and when you take into consideration the moon was in waxing gibbous that night, there’s no way it would’ve been bright enough for witnesses to see details of who left the window. They wouldn’t be credible.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The room was painfully silent. Agent Gideon hadn’t moved since the moment I started talking. Once I’d finished, though, the smile on his face morphed into a wide grin. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What’s your name?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I - it’s Aria. Aria DiMaggio.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Miss DiMaggio, thank you for that excellent insight.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Though Agent Gideon quickly moved on to finish the walkthrough he was presenting, I couldn’t focus. My mind was racing; he’d looked genuinely impressed. Agent Jason Gideon was impressed with me. I didn’t pay attention to the rest of the presentation, feeling like I was on a whole ‘nother plane of existence as we were dismissed from the assembly. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Miss DiMaggio,” Agent Gideon called from behind a wall of students. I paused and turned instantly, surprised he’d singled me out again. “Would you mind waiting? I’d like to have a word with you.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>With a curt nod, I parked myself on one of the risers and settled in to wait. Almost half an hour passed before the lingering students were ushered out of the auditorium. I stood as Agent Gideon approached me and offered a nervous smile. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m starving,” he told me, rubbing hand hands together and motioning for me to follow him out of the auditorium. “Do you know any good diners around here?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>--</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“So in short, Miss DiMaggio, you’re working on your degree in psychology?” Gideon mused, taking a thoughtful sip of his milkshake.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yes, basically. Along with Environment Science as my minor, so I can focus on forensic meteorology,” I confirmed, taking another bite of my chicken. “And please, call me Aria.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Aria,” he continued, tapping a finger on the side of the glass. “I’ll admit you’re not the first to get the answer right. Others have pieced it together, some look it up trying to be clever, but you’re the first I’ve had that made mention of the waxing gibbous.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It, uh, it’s honestly just a habit,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders and trying to keep my voice from shaking. Even after eating and chatting I was still so nervous I could hardly hold still. “My skillset doesn’t really come into play with most forensic things, but I always check the weather and the skies. They hold a lot of answers people don’t think about.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No one thinks of the moon,” he agreed thoughtfully, smile quirking at me again. I quirked one back as I turned to look up at him. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I do.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He chuckled to himself, and we both fell into compatible silence as we focused on our meals. Only after I’d taken my last bite – and all his milkshake was finished up – did he turn to look at me again. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Why are you on this career path?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I propped my chin in my hand to give his question a few moments of thought. And, y’know, to try and compose myself and push the jitters aside. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“When I graduated high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do. My mom and dad each had a career path laid out for me and I just... It didn’t fit with what I wanted. Their desires didn’t match mine at all and I needed a fresh start. I’d been at odds with them for a couple years and I just figured: this is my life, not theirs. I need to do what I want.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Good for you,” he said, genuine smile warming me to my core. It was still a sore spot in my heart – and my relationship with my parents. I’d always been rebellious with them but ignoring what they wanted me to study had been a real blow to them. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ve known for a while that I wanted to pursue behavioral analysis, but more importantly I wanted to help people. I wanted to give people the support they needed to make the same decisions I was. I wanted to be that shining light in someone’s darkest moments. So I picked psychology to start with. Parents both hated that, they think it’s pseudoscience.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And what do you think?” he asked, though from the smile teasing over his lips I knew he could read my answer. He tossed a few bills on the table – more than enough to cover our meals – and led the way out of the diner.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>A true grin came over my face. “I love it. With my whole heart. Every day, I know this is what I’m meant to do. And the further I got into psychology the more I could start getting into the behavioral analysis side of things. Profiling and psychology go pretty hand-in-hand, it turns out. I’ve already taken most of the basic classes I needed for criminal psychology and behavioral analysis, so I just jumped on that train whole-haul and I haven’t looked back since.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What has you interested in forensic meteorology, exactly?” Gideon mused, both of us shivering down into our jackets. Even though the rain had taken a break, the Seattle summer night still carried a chill. “In all my years in this job, I’ve only met one other person in that field.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“My big brother. Jude,” I said, nostalgic smile coming over my face. “He got me hooked on everything up there. Weather, clouds, stars, planets... Jude’s passion infected me. One of my professors brought up forensic meteorology. I’d been kind of hesitant pursuing it, since math and science really aren’t my strongest points, but the more I learn about it, the more I love it. Honestly, a lot of that love comes from my brother, which just makes it more special to me.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Your brother sounds like a great person,” he commented; my heart tightened a bit and I nodded in agreement. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He was.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Understanding washed over Gideon’s face; it made sense to him now, and I was glad I didn’t need to elaborate. We both stayed silent on the stroll. We found a relatively dry bench at the edge of campus and settled down, watching the students mill around us. After a while, once twilight was beginning to fade, he turned to me with a curious expression swimming in his dark eyes. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Do you have family here in Seattle?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No. My parents, sister, and her kids are in Colorado.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What about grandparents? Aunts? Uncles?” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ve got an Uncle in Colorado, a grandpa in New York, and then my MiMi and Papa in Italy.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Gideon nodded slowly, and the smile on his face widened just a bit more. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Have you ever been to Virginia, Aria? It’s truly beautiful this time of year.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No,” I told him slowly, heart beginning to beat a little faster. I didn’t need to be a profiler to piece together what he was getting at. There was just no way. No way he could –</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ll be honest, I think my team needs someone like you right," he said point-blank. Though I’d been hoping for it, the surprise that sparked through me was still exhilarating. “Things are changing in the BAU, and with all going on, I think they need someone that thinks of the moon and puts her trust in herself, no matter the cost. I want to bring you to Quantico as an intern to the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Thankfully, Gideon let me have my few moments of shocked silence. I stared up at him in an absolute daze, unable to really believe I’d just heard what I had. Finally, the words in my heart made their way up to my brain and I spluttered out,</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You – you’re not serious.” When he nodded eagerly, everything short-circuited again. “I don’t – how can – you can’t just offer me a position like that. Can you?” Again he simply nodded, eying me with a bemused smile. “Why? Why me?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It’s not often that I come across someone that resonates with me as much as you do. In fact, I've had this feeling only a couple other times about other things, other people. And the few times I ignored it, I regretted it. The few times I followed the feeling, it’s turned out to be some of the best decisions in my life. It would be a mistake to go back to Quantico without trying to bring you with me.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I still couldn’t muster a literate answer. Instead, I just stared blankly up at one of my idols – who had just offered me the job I’d been pursuing for years – convinced this was the most realistic dream I’d ever had.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What do you say, Aria?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yes,” I breathed, before my brain even knew what I was doing. Gideon grinned and held out his hand to me.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Welcome to the BAU.”</i>
</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Aubrianna was quiet; I could practically feel her wheels turning. I busied myself with the ongoing fight with my suitcase zipper, cursing under my breath until she finally asked,  </p>
<p>“You <i>resonate</i>?”</p>
<p>“Really?” I huffed, finally slumping against the bathroom counter the moment I got the zipper pulled all the way around. “<i>That's</i> what you took away from that entire thing? Aubrianna I’m being serious here –”</p>
<p>"I know, I know,” she said quickly, cutting me off before I could launch into a rant. “Look. You're good at what you're passionate about. And I'm not saying that you don't deserve a break like this. I just – I worry. It’s hard enough having you in Seattle. Now you’re going off to Virginia all by yourself with a stranger and –"</p>
<p>“Hey, hey, I know you’re worried," I cut in gently, smiling to myself as I hauled the suitcase out of the bedroom and depositing it beside the other one. "But I need you to trust me. I mean, it’s no different than me coming to Washington by myself, you know? Plus, I trust Agent Gideon, and I mean, he's already taken care of everything. He even left me a prepaid card to use for food and stuff until I can get settled in." </p>
<p>My sister let out a heavy sigh so I added jokingly,</p>
<p>“I really doubt he’d go through what he has if he was just planning to kill me. Forensically it would’ve been a lot easier to off me at the park, or –“</p>
<p>“<i>Aria</i> that’s not helping,” she huffed, but before she could snap at me I heard crying start up in the background. "Shit. It's past the kids’ bedtimes. Wyatt's fussy.” </p>
<p>"Tell them Auntie says hi and I love them," I requested, smile curling over my face as I flopped onto my bed, studying the ceiling as I heard my sister scoop up my nephew.</p>
<p>"Say hi to Auntie," she cooed; I heard a sniffly "<i>hi Aunnie</i>" and then more whimpering. "Okay. Look, I trust you. You know I do. If this is what you want, then I know there’s no stopping you. So… just try not to get killed or kidnapped or something and call me when you get to Virginia."</p>
<p>Despite the buzzing nerves and uneasiness, the panic in my chest eased up just a hint as tears stung my eyes. Knowing that at least my sister would be supportive made me feel better; I had someone in my corner. </p>
<p>"Thanks Aub-stopper," I teased, wiping the tears away that had spilled over. She groaned at the childhood nickname. "Love you."</p>
<p>"Love you too, goober. Get some sleep."</p>
<p>As we hung up and the silence of the night settled around me, the small comfort Aubrianna had given me was already at war with the rest of my emotions. Again. </p>
<p>Was this a stupid idea? </p>
<p>Was I making a mistake, moving cross-country on a handful of uncertainties? What if this <i>was</i> just a pipe dream? What if I didn't really have a job waiting for me? It was just an internship, after all. What if I wasn't a good fit? Was I willing to be almost 3,000 miles from my family – further than I already was – without anything solid to go off of? <i>What if this really is just an elaborate plan to murder me in the Appalachian mountains or something</i>, I couldn’t help but wonder. Okay, Aubri was right. That <i>didn’t</i> help things. </p>
<p>I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, then pulled up my contacts. <i>Jason Gideon</i> stared back at me as my thumb came to rest on the 'call' button. This was insane. I was uprooting my life on a whim. I was throwing away all I knew in the chance that this was the break I'd been looking for. In the hopes that somehow this wasn’t all a dream and for once, a good thing was actually happening to me – no strings attached. </p>
<p>
  <i>All the reason to do it.</i>
</p>
<p>It had been five years since the last time I spoke to <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/614124289134837760/full-name-jude-rosario-taylor-dob-january-12th">Jude</a> and I could still hear his voice crystal-clear in my head. Even now I could picture him with me packing my bags, more excited than I'd be. <i>This is the chance of a lifetime, Little A! What the hell else do you have to do, huh?</i></p>
<p>The smile crept back onto my face; I snapped my phone shut. Maybe this was a mistake, sure. This was definitely crazy, but like my big brother always said, what was life without a little chaos?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Intern</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x02 - In Name and Blood</i>
</p>
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    <p>For the second time, the woman behind the desk gave me a scrutinous look over her glasses. I offered yet another tight smile and folded my arms up onto the desk; it was almost taller than me, even <i>with</i> heels. </p><p>“Is there a problem?” I asked, adding a quick smile to dampen how rude that’d just sounded. She pursed her lips in an attempt at a smile back; we weren’t fooling each other.</p><p>“We don’t usually get a lot of temporary badges arranged in the fashion yours has been, so I’m simply ensuring we have everything we need.”</p><p>So, in short, she wanted to make sure I wasn’t lying. Another fake smile plastered onto my face before I could let my irritation rise up instead. The only thing worse than my snarky attitude were my facial expressions, and I didn’t need those getting me in trouble today. </p><p>Except, I was already running late. I’d had to make a pit stop to drop my bags off at the hotel, and with the Virginia traffic and now the security issues, it was already nearing 6:15 and Gideon had told me to meet him in his office at 6am. </p><p>“I can show you my ID again, if -”</p><p>“No, no. I’ve got it scanned,” she dismissed, shooting me another tight smile. “Just a few more minutes Miss...” she trailed off and squinted at the screen. “... Miss DiMaggy-oh.”</p><p>“It’s Di<i>Mahjeeoh</i>,” I corrected; her lips pursed a little tighter. I let myself slump back off the counter, tapping my nails against it as my hands slid off. As I looked around the lobby, trying to take my mind off the building anxiety that I wouldn’t be able to get clearance, I switched to worrying I’d overdressed. </p><p>Though Gideon had insisted he loved my style, my stiletto heels and above-knee skirt were clearly not the norm. Twice now I’d been eyed dubiously and my already self-conscious tendencies were running rampant thanks to the extra adrenaline and lack of sleep. I was about ready to just forget this whole thing and rush out the door. </p><p>“Here you are,” the receptionist said, standing up and holding out a temporary badge. “Your supervising special agent will have your badge waiting for you when you get upstairs.”</p><p>For several moments all I could do was stare down at the piece of plastic in my hand. <i>Aria DiMaggio – Intern – BAU Floor 6</i>. This was real. I really had a badge. <i>This was real</i>. As I slipped the badge over my head with shaking hands she pointed a finger towards the elevator. </p><p>“Sixth floor. Your badge only gives you clearance for <i>that</i> floor. If you’re caught on any other floor -”</p><p>“Sixth floor only. Got it,” I threw out as I all but ran from the desk. “Thanks!”</p><p>Yeesh. What a morning this had been. I was more than relieved to have the elevator to myself. I slumped back against the wall as the doors slid shut and let out a heavy breath. Thankfully, Agent Gideon had arranged a ride to get me into the facility from the airport, but already this was becoming more and more complicated. I was still metaphorically holding my breath, waiting for someone to pop out and go “<i>Surprise! We got you good! Go back to Seattle with your tail between your legs</i>!” </p><p>I had to stop thinking like that before I gave myself a mental breakdown. I mean, the plane ticket had been real. A cab had been waiting for me with my name. I had an official badge: this was as real as it could get and as soon as I got to Agent Gideon, he could help me take care of whatever obstacles came up</p><p><i>You can do this</i>, I chanted to myself, standing up and smoothing out my skirt to settle my nerves as the elevator came to a stop. I stepped off and made my way across the lobby towards the pair of glass doors ahead of me. All the desks in the office were empty from what I could see as I peeked inside. It was early, and I’d certainly gotten in ahead of everyone else like I’d been asked. </p><p>Agent Gideon was nowhere in sight, though, and the knot of worry in my stomach tightened. Maybe... Maybe he was somewhere else on the floor? The thought of going into the office area by myself, unaccompanied, would take more courage than I could muster right now. Agent Gideon had told me he’d be here, so I’d check around the floor and see if I could find him before I went in. </p><p>Good plan. I left the office area and went back into the lobby, heading down one of the side halls. The only sound around me was the click of my heels on the tile, an oddly comforting staccato beat to war with the pounding of my heart. </p><p>When I’d nearly gone completely around the floor, thinking I was the only person here at this hour, I heard a door open around the corner. I surged forward and whipped around the wall to see a very colorful woman bustling the opposite direction. </p><p>"Excuse me," I called; the woman turned to look back at me in surprise. "Uh, hi. I'm -"</p><p>"Oh, I recognize you! You’re the intern!" she said excitedly, throwing her hands up and spinning on the spot to come back towards me. Oh thank god, she knew who I was! Gideon must’ve talked to someone after all! <i>See? It’s real. This is real. Everything’s fine</i>. </p><p>The woman wasn’t what I’d expect of an FBI agent. She was a little older than myself and dressed fantastically in bright leggings, a beautiful purple blouse with a colorful shawl on top, and bright red glasses. Her blonde hair was teased up into a cute, fluffy style that framed her face, accentuated by the adorable earrings she had on. She, surprisingly, dressed almost exactly like I did but with more color. Instantly I felt less self-conscious of my own outfit and her warm smile eased down even more of my nerves. </p><p>"I'm Penelope Garcia, technical analyst for the BAU."</p><p>"Hi Penelope," I said with a grin, holding out my hand. "I'm Aria DiMaggio. I was looking for Agent Gideon, he said he’d meet me at his office almost twenty minutes ago and I’m not quite sure where I need to be.”</p><p>"Here, honeybunch. Let me show you around. Gideon’s usually in before the rest of us so he should be waiting,” she told me, leading me down the way she’d been going. We came to the glass doors again and she held one open, ushering me in before bustling after me. “Everyone else will start trickling in soon. We've already got a new case so we're just gonna jump right in, I hope that’s okay. I can totally help you get settled, too."</p><p>"Thanks, I really appreciate it," I told her as I followed her across the room. She led me up a ramp to our left and walked across to an office labeled ‘JASON GIDEON’. She knocked twice, and then called out, </p><p>“Gideon?” </p><p>There was commotion inside, and the door opened to reveal someone who was most certainly <i>not</i> Agent Gideon. He was tall, slim, and strikingly handsome - even with the shimmer of exhaustion in his soft brown eyes. </p><p>“Oh, Reid,” Penelope chirped in surprise. “We’re looking for Gideon.”</p><p>“He’s not in yet,” the man – Reid – said as his gaze flicked to me. He blinked curiously as he took me in. I offered a friendly smile and Penelope wrapped an arm around my shoulders. </p><p>“This is the intern he told us about, Aria DiMaggio. Aria, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s a member of the BAU. He doesn’t do handshakes,” she whispered the last part to me, thankfully saving me from an embarrassing moment. </p><p>“Reid,” he corrected, holding up a hand in greeting and giving me a small smile. I shoved aside the stupid schoolgirl crushing as I watched surprise come across Penelope’s face. She morphed out of gracious host to concerned team member in a few rapid blinks. She shuffled forward and leaned into the office past Reid, looking around for a moment as she asked worriedly, </p><p>“Wait. He’s not here? Really? He’s always here. He never leaves!”</p><p>Reid, leaning against the doorframe to give Penelope room to investigate, shrugged his shoulders and stifled a yawn. I figured it’d be a safe bet to say he'd been in there all night. Before I could study him any longer, Penelope moved back to my side and sighed. </p><p>“Well, looks like you’re with me for right now,” she said, giving me another wide, warm smile. “Come on, let me show you around before everyone else gets in!”</p><p>She linked her arm with mine and began to tow me down the ramp. I looked back and gave the slender, sleepy man in the doorway another smile. </p><p>“Nice meeting you, Reid.” </p><p>He blinked in surprise and a small, simple smile flickered over his face before he disappeared into the office again. I didn’t have time to linger on the attractive agent I’d just met because Penelope was going a hundred miles a minute. </p><p>"This is where you’ll be,” she said, patting an empty desk right by the ramp. The one just across from mine had a nametag for <i>Dr. Spencer Reid</i>. I smiled and immediately tried not to look as excited as I was. “Did Gideon go over everything with you yesterday during the call? He said he’d fill you in and get you up to speed. He did call, right? He always says he’ll call, and he always forgets..."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. He called. We went over a bit," I said, setting my purse on my new desk. “He told me he’d cover all I the specifics today, though.”</p><p>"Guess that’s my job now, since he’s still not here,” she said, looking around the floor like she expected him to climb out from under a desk at any second. “Well, you precious little teddy bear, you’ll primarily be reporting to Gideon during the internship, but in the super weird and unusual time when he’s not here, you're with Hotch – uh, I mean <i>Agent</i> Hotchner – No. No one calls him that. Just call him Hotch. He'll be overseeing your active internship. His face can be scary but he’s a secret sweetheart under his scowl. And when all else fails you just come find me and I’ll tuck you under my bright and colorful wing."</p><p>I couldn't help my grin. "So I get to study behavioral analysis <i>and</i> great fashion sense for my internship?"</p><p>Penelope beamed and eyed my outfit. I hoped she felt the click of an instant connection that just sparked through me. I felt closer to this lovely lady after just a few minutes than I did all the people I’d met in Washington over the last three years. </p><p>"I think I'll be the one studying. Oh, those shoes are <i>killer</i>!"</p><p>"On sale at Target, half off! I'm so in love with your leggings," I admitted, and she proudly showed them off to me. </p><p>“I know right? Ten bucks at JC Penny’s! You <i>have</i> to tell me where you got that adorable skirt!”</p><p>As we started chatting, I heard the glass doors open behind us and we both glanced over at the newest people coming into the office. </p><p>"Oh, here, introduction time round two!" she said excitedly, stepping around me and taking my hand as she made a beeline across the floor. Despite how reassuring Penelope had been, nerves still burst through me. Without Gideon, something just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t quite belong here. </p><p>The agents walking in gave us a curious glance as we came up to them. </p><p>"Guys, this is the intern Gideon told us about. This is Aria DiMaggio. Aria, these are SSA's Derek Morgan and Jennifer Jareau."</p><p>"It's great to meet you both," I said, taking their hands as they extended them out. The tall, muscular guy right in front of me took my handshake first and gave me a surprisingly warm smile. </p><p>“Morgan,” he introduced. “It’s nice to meet you, Aria. I didn’t know you were showin’ up so soon.”</p><p>“Gideon was supposed to be here to introduce her, but he’s still not in so I figured I’d show her off,” Penelope explained. The same flash of surprise that Penelope had shown earlier came across Morgan’s face. </p><p>“Wait, Gideon’s not here?” Penelope shook her head and Morgan jerked his head towards the office. “Not asleep in there?”</p><p>“No, I already checked –”</p><p>“What about Strauss? He with her?” </p><p>Penelope gave him a bewildered look to say <i>how should I know</i>. Morgan gave her an unamused stare before skirting us to head back out into the lobby. Jennifer stepped up to me and shook my hand, mirroring Morgan’s kind smile. </p><p>“Welcome to the team, Aria. You can call me JJ. I’m the liaison for the BAU. I deal with the media and local stations and help field the cases for the team.” </p><p>“And she’s your number one go-to for snacks and juice boxes,” Penelope pointed out with a grin. “Feel free to call her mom.”</p><p>“It’s great to meet you JJ,” I giggled. JJ stuck her tongue out at Penelope as I heard footsteps behind us. </p><p>“Okay, so Gideon’s not here,” Morgan confirmed; Penelope turned to frown at him. </p><p>“What, you didn’t believe me?”</p><p>He gave her another look and then shifted his gaze around the pointedly empty office. </p><p>“Where’s Prentiss at?” JJ and Penelope shrugged, and he frowned a bit more. “What about Hotch?”</p><p>Again, they shrugged. I joined in this time and earned a giggle from Penelope with that. He threw his hands up and looked around. </p><p>“Where the hell is everyone?!”</p><p>“Reid’s in Gideon’s office,” Penelope offered. Morgan rubbed a hand down his face and then pointed a finger at the room behind him. </p><p>“Yeah, seein’ as I just talked to him I pieced that much together. Alright. Let’s grab pretty boy and get this started. We got a case and we don’t have time to wait for them.”</p><p>He skirted the hallway and dipped into the conference room. JJ sighed and turned to me. </p><p>“I promise he’s not usually this...”</p><p>“<i>Spicy</i>,” Penelope offered. JJ and I both snorted as Morgan poked his head out of the room. </p><p>“I heard that.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, calm yourself Captain Grumpygills,” Penelope cut in, waiving her hand in dismissal. “JJ can grab Reid and the files, and I’ll grab us coffee.”</p><p>“Meet in the conference room in five for briefing,” JJ started; Morgan popped his head out again. </p><p>“Meet in <i>two</i>. We don’t have time for five.”</p><p>JJ <i>and</i> Penelope rolled their eyes as he slipped back in the room. </p><p>“I can go get Reid,” I offered, wanting to be as helpful as possible. JJ gave me a thankful smile as hurried off to grab the files. Penelope was already bustling away, so I made my way to Gideon’s office. I knocked again and then eased the door open. </p><p>Reid was slumped in an armchair, head propped on his hand, snoring lightly. For just a moment I lingered, not wanting to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, and I could tell he’d had a long night. But once I realized how creepy I was being – and how pressed for time we were – I stepped inside and asked softly, </p><p>“Reid?” He blinked himself awake, staring up at me in tired confusion for a few heartbeats. I folded my hands in front of me, twisting my fingers together out of nervous habit as I waited for him to sit up. “JJ wants us to meet in the conference room for a briefing.”</p><p>Reid nodded and pushed to his feet, slinging his bag over his shoulder before following me out of the room. As we made our way across the room he asked, </p><p>“Do you know if Hotch is here, by any chance?”</p><p>I shook my head and glanced back at him. </p><p>“I don’t think he is. Prentiss isn’t either,” I offered, hoping that meant more to him than it did to me at the moment. His brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything else as we came into the room. As Reid slipped around me to settle at the table, I hesitated. I mean, I wasn’t an actual profiler, I was just the intern. </p><p>Penelope was getting coffee... was that something I was supposed to do? Morgan, JJ, and Reid were already looking over case files, so instead of standing around or taking a place at the table, I turned and hurried off to find her. </p><p>Thankfully, she wasn’t far. She was at the small break room by the glass doors, compiling a slew of coffee cups and lids. I stepped up beside her and offered a smile. </p><p>“How can I help?”</p><p>“Oh,” she said, glancing over at me. “You don’t need to get the coffee!”</p><p>“I’m the intern,” I pointed out, taking a cup. “That’s what I’m here for.”</p><p>She looked uncertain for another heartbeat; I lifted a brow at her to ask what to do. She chuckled and relented, stepping aside. </p><p>“That one’s for JJ. She likes light cream, one sugar.”</p><p>With Penelope at my shoulder, I finished mixing the coffee – and tea for Reid – then grabbed one of the trays from the counter. I gathered the drinks onto it and then turned to head back to the conference room. </p><p>“What about you? If there’s a coffee or tea you like, I can get it ordered. There’s nothing I can’t get,” she insisted, looking like she was genuinely concerned I didn’t have my own drink. “We also have scones. I can get you a scone!”</p><p>“I already had a snack on the way here. I keep a tight snacking schedule, don’t worry,” I began. When she still looked uncertain, I turned to show her the medical ID bracelet on my wrist. “Type-1 diabetes. I probably have more snacks than a 7-11.”</p><p>“Oh! Oh, that’s good to know! I’ll let the team know. I can get some healthy snacks in here for you. Oh, and I have a mini fridge in my office if you need a place for your insulin. <i>Oh</i>! And I think I even have a blood sugar meter at home that I can bring as a spare if –“</p><p>“Are you diabetic?” I asked in surprise, unable to hold back the giggle as she brought her excited thought train to a stop. She shook her head quickly. </p><p>“No, but my best friend in high school was. It’s just sort of became a habit to have testing stuff around. She always needed somewhere to put her insulin or a snack that wasn’t 98% sugar, and it was a struggle. So don’t you worry, I’ve got you covered, honeybunch.”</p><p>“I’ve known you for like, half an hour, and I can honestly say you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met,” I told her, honest smile on my face. She grinned at me, cheeks tinting pink as she ducked her head. </p><p>“Don’t mention it,” she assured. “Go wow them with your intern skills!”</p><p>After helping me steady the tray of drinks, Penelope trotted off across the office and I hurried back into the conference room. As I sat the tray on one of the tables along the wall, though, the three profilers were already getting to their feet. Morgan turned to me, and thankfully it seemed most of his irritation had settled from earlier. </p><p>“There you are, kid. You up for travelling today?” he took the cup of coffee I handed him and stepped aside to let me hand JJ and Reid their respective ones as well. “Got a go-bag and everythin’?”</p><p>“Yeah, Gideon told me to pack one just in case. Where’re we going?”</p><p>“Milwaukee,” JJ said, sipping her coffee. “It’s a rough one. We’ll go get your bag and –”</p><p>“Oh hallelujah,” Morgan exclaimed, startling both myself and JJ as he took off out of the room. “We got Hotch!”</p><p>Reid joined JJ and I as we moved to look out the door to where Morgan was practically sprinting. I couldn’t see the man he was running to meet, but it was clear the team around me were relieved to have him here now. </p><p>“Aria, I’ll take you to Garcia’s office so we can get you an official badge, and then we’ll grab your bag,” JJ declared, resting a hand on my arm to guide me out of the room. “Reid, we’ll meet you guys on the plane.”</p><p>Reid held up a hand in both agreement and goodbye as he made his way to his desk to gather his things. JJ took me through a different door in the conference room, leading me down a narrow hall. She paused at the only door and knocked twice, then let us inside. </p><p>“Oh wow,” I breathed, looking around at the number of trinket-covered surfaces surrounding us. Penelope sat across from us in the center of several heavily decorated desks and computers. She turned from one of the monitors, an ID badge already in her hand. The look on her face told me things weren’t getting any easier today, though. </p><p>“Per the email I just received, Strauss didn’t know about Aria,” she told JJ in a tight, worried voice. The woman at my side let out a groan and dropped her head into her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. </p><p>“Why am I not surprised Gideon didn’t talk to her?” she sighed. “Let me guess...”</p><p>“Yeah. She wants to talk to you, Aria,” Penelope said, glancing up at me. The look on my face had to show just how uneasy I was at the thought of talking to this Strauss lady. “If it helps, I triple checked all your paperwork, and you’re squeaky-clean approved. I don’t know how Gideon did it without her knowing, but he made sure you’re official.”</p><p>“Well, that’s good at least,” I said slowly, my heart not any more settled than before she told me that. “Why do I get the feeling Strauss is bad news?”</p><p>“She’s the BAU’s section chief,” JJ explained, jerking her head to lead me out of Penelope’s office. I glanced back at her and she held up a hand in goodbye, mouthing ‘<i>good luck</i>’ as JJ pulled the door shut. “I think, deep down, she’s a good person. She just... She’s never liked Gideon, and doesn’t like the freedom our team has. She’s probably pretty unhappy that he got you approved without her say-so. He had to have gone over her head and that’s not a power move she’ll be happy with.”</p><p>Well that wasn’t reassuring. The opposite, quite frankly, especially with Gideon not even here to defend me. I realized I was twisting my fingers together and made myself pull my hands apart; I resorted instead to toying with the hem of my skirt. I could hear my dad snapping, <i>Where are your manners? How many times have I told you not to fidget? Keep your hands still. I didn’t raise you to be impolite</i>.</p><p>As JJ opened an office door for me and stepped aside, more nerves fluttered through me. My fingers curled around the hem of my skirt as I gave her a tight smile. She gave me a gentle one in return and rested a hand on my shoulder. </p><p>“Hey, you’ll be just fine. I’m sure she just wants to meet you. If Garcia says you check out, you check out. Okay?”</p><p>“Right, okay,” I said, nodding quickly and resisting the urge to pick at my tights now. She gave a gentle squeeze and then headed back down the hall. </p><p>“I’ll be down in the lobby whenever you’re ready to go.”</p><p>I waited until JJ was out of sight and then blew out a shaky breath before stepping inside. There was another door just ahead of me, and plush chairs scattered around this part of the office. Just as I let the main door shut behind me, the one across from me opened. A tall, dark-haired woman came stalking out, fury shining bright in her deep brown eyes. </p><p>She caught sight of me and faltered for just a moment. I skirted aside quickly and gave a nervous smile. Her expression softened as she murmured a quick <i>excuse me</i> and slipped out. I turned my attention to the other open door and found two sets of eyes staring at me.</p><p><i>Here goes nothing</i>, I sighed, making my way forward. I paused in the doorway and turned to the woman seated behind a desk. She had short, golden hair that stood in stark contrast to the cold, gray eyes sweeping over me in a swift examination. The man standing across from her had a strict face and piercing eyes, almost sharper than hers. His suit was as crisp as the look he gave me; I tried to keep my voice from squeaking.</p><p>“Hi, I’m here to speak with Section Chief Strauss,” I prefaced. “I’m Aria DiMaggio. I’m the –”</p><p>“You’re Agent Gideon’s intern,” the woman – presumably Chief Strauss – concluded, lips drawing into a tight line. Surprised at the ice laced into her tone I only managed a nod. Her head snapped to look up at the man across from her as she waved a hand in my direction. “Did you know about <i>this</i>?”</p><p><i>I have a name</i>, I thought to myself, forcing my face to stay neutral. I’d meant it earlier: last thing I needed were my expressions getting me into trouble. The man studied me a moment longer and turned his steel gaze to her. </p><p>“He hadn’t discussed anything with me, no.”</p><p>Strauss <i>hmm</i>’d and turned back to me. I folded my hands in front of me, squeezing my fingers tight so I didn’t fidget. Dad was right – I’d been raised with manners and I’d be damned if I wouldn’t use them as much as I could now. </p><p>“Miss DiMaggio, I want to assure you that the process for becoming a member of the FBI – much less an elite team such as the Behavioral Analysis Unit – isn't quite as simple as showing up.”</p><p>I blinked and took a second to understand what she was saying. Was she... did she mean that I wasn’t supposed to be here? I glanced at the man – who was studying me intently – and then looked back at her. </p><p>“I understand,” I said, and quickly added <i>ma’am</i> at the end because she seemed like the kind of person that wanted that level of etiquette. Her face didn’t change. </p><p>“I also don’t appreciate methods being taken to grant access to my team without <i>my</i> approval.”</p><p>“Oh, I didn’t know that you hadn’t been involved,” I said quickly, hoping she heard the honesty in my voice. “I had assumed that Agent Gideon had made me the offer with the proper approval.”</p><p>“Well, Miss DiMaggio, I can assure you that assumptions won’t get you very far in the FBI,” she told me coolly as she folded her hands on the desk. I opened my mouth to reply but shut it again when I realized I didn’t have an idea of what to say. JJ wasn’t kidding, she really didn’t like her authority being surpassed like Gideon had apparently done. </p><p>“Agent Hotchner, I’ll be overseeing this case until I can assign your replacement,” she said curtly, turning her chilly scowl up at the man across from her. So <i>this</i> was Agent Hotchner? What the heck did she mean, <i>replacement</i>? Gideon had raved to me about how amazing ‘Hotch’ was – did Strauss really just fire him? <i>In front of me</i>?!</p><p>“You don’t have any field experience, do you?” Agent Hotchner asked; I wasn’t the only one surprised by his question. Strauss took a moment to glare up at him as she shut the file on her desk. </p><p>“My job is to protect the bureau. If I have to hold the team’s hand for one case, so be it,” she dismissed, getting to her feet and turning to leave. Agent Hotchner took a step after her. </p><p>“Ma’am, in order to function effectively, this team needs stability –”</p><p>“The BAU has some very talented people on the team, and I believe it’s time they were out from underneath you and Jason Gideon. It’s clear, when left to your own devices, mistakes and poor decisions are all that seem to happen.”</p><p>At her last words, her eyes flicked to me. Again, I was so taken aback by her underhanded jab at me that I simply said nothing. As she approached I stepped aside to let her pass. She paused in the doorway and, without looking at me, simply said, </p><p>“Miss DiMaggio, your services are not needed on this team. I trust you can find your way out. Be sure to turn in your badge at the front desk, or we’ll be charging you for its replacement.”</p><p>For several moments, Agent Hotchner and I stood in stunned silence. As I stared after Strauss in disbelief, all I could think was <i>what the hell just happened</i>? But as her words settled over me, the reality of my situation started to sink in.</p><p>I’d just lost my internship. In under an hour. The internship I moved 2,700 miles for and left behind everything I’d called home. After sacrificing all I’d had, I’d lost what little I’d been trying to gain.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>Surprised, I turned to stare up at Agent Hotchner. His scowl was a mixture of fury and determination, but the gaze he fixed on me was gentle, sympathetic. “I know what you gave up to come out here at Gideon’s request.”</p><p>“You - Gideon <i>did</i> tell you about me?” I managed, voice catching on the emotions rising within me. He gave a curt nod. </p><p>“Gideon called me the night he met you,” he confessed. “I had hoped your career stood a better chance if Strauss didn’t know I was in on it too. She’s never been fond of Gideon or myself.”</p><p>“Well she hides her distaste well,” I said bitterly, and immediately snapped my mouth shut. <i>Really, Aria?! Come on</i>!  I peeked back up at Agent Hotchner and to my surprise, there was the ghost of a smile on his face for just a heartbeat. </p><p>“I’ll walk you back to the bullpen so you can grab your things.”</p><p>“Thank you,” I said softly, letting him lead the way out of the office. I followed him silently, listening to the click of my heels and trying to calm myself down like I’d done just an hour early. <i>Just an hour earlier</i>. Everything indeed was crumbling down around me like I’d been terrified of. Agent Hotchner held the glass door open for me and I walked in slowly, trying to keep the tears at bay. </p><p>Penelope was at my desk, eyes wide as she waited to know what had happened. When she caught my expression, her own fell into disbelief. Agent Hotchner gave me a swift nod in goodbye as he slipped past me, up to an office beside Gideon’s. Once the door clicked shut, Penelope was bustling forward to pull me into a hug. </p><p>“Oh, honeybunch, I’m so <i>so</i> sorry,” she said, holding me tight to her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my head on her shoulder, forcing my lip not to quiver and trying not to let my tears spill out. “Look, I’m not letting this be the end of it. I’ll get ahold of Gideon and – and I’ll go the same route he did –”</p><p>“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” I said immediately, pulling back to look up at her seriously. “I... I get the feeling Gideon isn’t here because of what he pulled to get me on the team. I don’t want you – or the others, for that matter – to get in trouble.”</p><p>My heart sunk further at my own words. I realized Strauss had already gone downstairs, probably told JJ what had happened... I wouldn’t be getting to say goodbye to the rest of the team and the pit in my stomach deepened.</p><p>“But you came all this way –”</p><p>“Yeah, and I knew what I was risking. This was too good to be true, and I let myself get caught up in a fantasy.” God, it hurt to even say. We stepped apart and I was surprised to see Penelope’s eyes glistening.</p><p>“It’s just not fair,” she managed, and now a tear slipped down her cheek. “You really clicked with the team. With <i>me</i>. Gideon wanted you here and she’s just – she's just ripping things apart because she’s mad. Really, Aria, I can get into the system and cancel anything she’s trying to do. I can protect you –”</p><p>“I mean it, Penelope, I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me. Just... Just tell the team goodbye for me.” I grabbed my purse off the desk behind her and tugged my badge off, handing it to her as I began to back for the door. “And I mean it when I say it was truly wonderful to meet you.”</p><p>I turned away as I felt tears welling and rushed to the doors. I hastily wiped them off my cheeks as I jammed the elevator button. As I stepped onto the lift and turned around, I saw Penelope staring after me. Over her shoulder, Agent Hotchner had stepped out of his office to watch me leave, an unreadable expression on his stern face. </p><p>I offered them one last smile, tears and all, as the doors slid shut.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you're all enjoying the story so far! I'm excited for you guys to get to know Aria. If you have any thoughts so far, I'd love to hear them! Thanks for all your support!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Milwaukee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x02 - In Name and Blood</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Your session will expire in sixty seconds</i>.</p><p>Wiping more tears off my cheeks, I sniffed and scrolled back up to read over the ticket I was about to buy. One way to Denver, Colorado. I hadn’t been home in nearly three years, but hey, I was considering myself at rock bottom so why not deal with all my mess-ups at once?</p><p>Now I’d get to hear about not only how much of a failure I was for leaving Seattle before I graduated, but I could get an earful about how stupid I’d been to fly out to freaking <i>Virginia</i> on a wing and a prayer. </p><p>Briefly I’d considered settling down here, going to the University of Virginia, and just making the best of it, but… I was scared, okay? Scared, and overwhelmed. I didn’t have a job, I was in a new state all alone, and everything had just been ripped out from under me. I needed to get back to what I knew. </p><p>I went to click <i>purchase</i> and again my hand hesitated. What the hell was I waiting for? The sooner I got my ticket, the sooner I could pack up, head home, and pretend like this had all just been a bad dream. </p><p>So why wasn’t I? I’d been sitting here for almost six hours, moping and attempting to book my flight (and, okay, eating through all the snacks I’d brought with me). What choice did I have? I had nothing out here on the east coast. All my family was back on the west coast and without my degree, I had no reason to be out here. I’d planned to apply in a few years, once I was graduated and ready for a position with the FBI. </p><p><i>Screwed that up too, Aria. Way to go</i>, I huffed to myself, again trying to click <i>purchase</i>. The three loud knocks at my door made me jump; I almost knocked my laptop off the bed as I spun around. Looking for any excuse to avoid sending myself back home, I leapt up and scampered to the door. I went for the peep hole and irritably realized that without my heels on, I couldn’t reach it.</p><p><i>Well, if it’s someone here to kill me, at least I don’t have to face my parents</i>, I reasoned, opening the door. Agent Hotchner and the dark-haired woman from Strauss’ office stared down at me, and for a moment I almost preferred a murderer. I’d already been humiliated enough in front of Agent Hotchner. What more could there be to do?</p><p>“We’re sorry to bother you,” he began; I offered a confused blink up at him, totally silent. “Do you mind if we come in?”</p><p>Manners snapping back to me, I stepped aside. </p><p>“Of course not, come in. I’m sorry, I’m, uh, a little disorganized right now.”</p><p>I shut the door once both had stepped inside – grateful I’d thrown away all evidence of my snack binging – and turned to face them. Agent Hotchner motioned to the woman at his side and said, </p><p>“Aria, this is Emily Prentiss, a member of the BAU team. Prentiss, this is the BAU’s intern Aria DiMaggio.”</p><p>“Former intern,” I corrected, shaking the hand she held out. “Strauss was pretty clear about that part.”</p><p>To my surprise, the two of them exchanged a quick look before looking back to me. I studied them curiously, picking up on the glint of mischief I saw in Prentiss’ eyes. She was the one who smiled at me now and said,</p><p>“Well, like us, your termination hasn’t been processed. It’s hung up in the system so technically, you’re still a part of the team.”</p><p>As my eyes widened in surprise, Agent Hotchner stepped forward. He looked genuinely hopeful, like the two of them were eagerly awaiting something only I could give. </p><p>“Aria, I know you’ve been through a lot in the last thirty days, let alone the last twenty-four hours. I wanted to ask one more favor of you, if you’re up for it.”</p><p>Part of me, the part that was already shaken and terrified about my future, was screaming <i>no, absolutely not</i>! Rationally, I needed to book my flight to Colorado and never look back. I should’ve been trying to put as much distance between myself and Quantico as I could. </p><p>But the voice in the back of my mind that had persuaded me to come this far – the one that sounded surprisingly a lot like Jude – whispered <i>what more do you have to lose</i>? I was already here, already knee-deep in the mess that had unraveled around me. </p><p>Might as well make the most of it, right?</p><p>“What can I do?”</p><p>--</p><p>The flight to Milwaukee had gone by in the blink of an eye. In less than two hours I was in the back of a rental car on the way to the local police station. Agent Hotchner and Prentiss were in the front, quietly discussing the resistance we were going to face in just a few minutes. </p><p>“She’s gonna be pretty pissed,” Prentiss sighed; Agent Hotchner just shrugged as we paused at a red light. </p><p>“She’s already fired us. There’s not much more she can do. Not without causing a scene, and she won’t want to make it seem like the team is in turmoil while we’re on a case,” he reasoned, and glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Aria, as of right now you answer to me, not Strauss. While you’re here on this case you’re a member of the team and regardless of what she says, for the time being you’re authorized to be with us.”</p><p>Caught off guard by his firm defense of me I simply nodded and said, </p><p>“As long as you won’t get in more trouble because of me.”</p><p>“She’ll be upset, but that’s my burden to bear,” he assured, turning onto the street of the police station. “Our only focus right now is to help the team in any way we can.”</p><p>“Understood,” I told him; Prentiss voiced her agreement as we pulled up in front of the station. As we got out of the car, she paused at my side and offered a gentle smile. </p><p>“I’ve been dealing with Strauss for quite some time, and she’ll bully you if she thinks she can get away with it. Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself, and remember you’ve got the <i>whole</i> team on your side for this one. I promise. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” I agreed, giving a nod and smile in return. She squeezed my arm gently and turned to follow Agent Hotchner into the station. I trailed them both, trying not to let my anxiety take over. As worried as I was about Strauss’ reaction, I had Agent Hotchner and Prentiss – and, apparently, the whole team – on my side. Hopefully that’d be enough to handle her imminent fury. </p><p>“We’re with the FBI,” Agent Hotchner said, flashing a badge at the officer inside. He pointed back behind him, and the three of us wove through the station. As Agent Hotchner led us into the room the team was situated in, Reid looked up and gave us all a surprised smile. </p><p>“Look who’s here,” he announced; JJ glanced up from a stack of papers and Morgan, at the head of the table, turned to stare at us in surprised relief. </p><p>“Oh thank God,” he laughed, shaking his head and instantly coming up to us, clapping Agent Hotchner on the shoulder as he nodded at Prentiss and I.</p><p>“Hey,” she said, striding in and taking a seat next to JJ. Agent Hotchner stepped to Morgan’s side, leaving a seat for me beside Reid. I sat down quickly and smiled first at him, then up to Morgan and JJ. </p><p>“How can we help?” I asked; Reid slid a stack of folders to me as JJ handed Prentiss one of her own. </p><p>“We’ll need to get you guys caught up –” JJ began, only to cut off as she caught sight of something over Morgan’s shoulder. We all looked up to see Strauss step into the room. Her cold gaze landed first on myself, then flicked to Prentiss before she settled on Agent Hotchner. He steeled his gaze and lifted his chin, almost daring her to say something to him. </p><p>As I’d been anticipating, Strauss turned to look down at me again. Taking after Agent Hotchner’s lead, I sat up just a bit straighter and wiped any trace of nerves off my expression. I saw her jaw tighten, probably taking it as a threat. Oh well. </p><p>“We’re only here to help,” Prentiss spoke up, drawing Strauss’ attention off me. She scoffed and folded her arms over her chest, turning back to Agent Hotchner. </p><p>“We’ll deal with this later,” she promised, and without another glance at anyone she stalked back out of the room. Prentiss caught my eye, lifting a brow in annoyance. I rolled my eyes and caught the smirk that came over her face at my response as I all but melted into the seat. That hadn’t been as bad as I’d been expecting, but I knew that didn’t mean we were out of the woods just yet.</p><p>“Let’s get to work,” Agent Hotchner decided, settling down at the table as Morgan took his seat as well. After JJ’s quick briefing for the three of us, the room settled into silence and we all dove into the files scattered around us.</p><p>I lost track of time, too wrapped up in trying to find something of use for the team. When Reid finally broke the silence all of us momentarily snapped out of our trances. </p><p>“It’s impossible, there’s too many,” he sighed, shoving aside a finished file and grabbing another. JJ and Morgan made noises of agreement. </p><p>As I looked up to give Reid a sympathetic smile, I felt a wave of dizziness sweep over me. Turning my head just a hint brought on a sudden, throbbing headache; my blood sugar was probably too low. </p><p><i>Way to go Aria</i>, I sighed to myself. Fifteen years of monitoring my diabetes and I still forgot to eat like I should. I had to go snack before I passed out; that was the <i>last</i> thing I needed.</p><p>“I’ll get us some drinks to keep us going,” I offered, getting up and skirting the table as I was met with various noises of appreciation from the team. “Agent Prentiss, coffee or tea?”</p><p>“Emily,” she corrected with a warm smile. “Coffee, black with three sugars.”</p><p>“Agent Hotchner, coffee or tea?”</p><p>“Coffee, a dash of cream and one sugar,” he said without looking up.  </p><p>“You bet. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“Aria?” he added; I paused and glanced back at him, brows raising in question as he spared a glance over the top of the papers. “You can just call me Hotch.”</p><p>With a smile, I nodded and then hurried out of the room towards the coffee station. As I sat a pot on to boil, I slipped out of the station and hurried to the car, where I’d left my go-bag. I pulled out my meter and pricked my finger fast, testing my sugars. </p><p>62. Yikes, definitely too low; no wonder I felt terrible. Snagging a box of raisins, I popped a few in my mouth – grabbing a granola bar for good measure – and slipped back into the station. I was nearly done preparing the drinks when a shadow fell over me. </p><p>“Is this the appropriate time for a snack break?”</p><p>I spun so fast I nearly fell over, still shaky from my low sugar. Strauss had her arms crossed, still managing to tower over me even in my four-inch heels. Prent – <i>Emily</i>’s words of advice came back to me and I said cautiously, </p><p>“I’m diabetic and my blood sugar’s low. I have to eat.”</p><p>Instead of being understanding – or even seeming to care – she pursed her lips tighter than they already were.</p><p>“And you think that a demanding job such as this is a good idea for someone with uncontrolled medical issues?”</p><p>“My diabetes is under control, ma’am,” I said, voice just a hint sharper than I’d meant. Oops. “Even so, if I go a long time without eating there are consequences.”</p><p>“I’ll be certain to let the Director know about your setbacks when we review the status of your employment,” she said curtly, and turned on her heel to go bother someone else. Irritation sparking through me, I turned back to finish the drinks. </p><p>To my surprise, Hotch came to stand at my side a moment later. I looked up at him for a second before pouring the last cup. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long,” I began, and grabbed his cup to hand it up to him. Though he took it, he shook his head and kept his intense gaze on me. </p><p>“I was more concerned with what Strauss wanted with you. Is everything alright?”</p><p>Genuinely surprised at how concerned he sounded, I put the lid on the last drink and turned to look up at him. Why did everyone have to be so freaking tall?</p><p>“She wasn’t happy with my snack break.”</p><p>“Are your sugars okay?” he pressed; more surprise. So much in fact, I didn’t try to hide it from my expression. Another ghost of a smile flitted over his face and he elaborated, “Garcia called. I’m not <i>that</i> good at profiling.”</p><p>I giggled and shrugged, putting the drinks onto a plate to carry; Hotch followed me towards the conference room. </p><p>“Honestly, from what Gideon was telling me, I’m willing to believe you <i>are</i>.” This time, his lips actually flickered up into a brief but genuine smile as I added, “I was a little low, but I’m good now.”</p><p>I made my way around the table, passing out the drinks and getting murmurs of thanks. I sat Reid’s down last and then settled into my seat, sneaking my granola bar to nibble at as we all fell into silence. </p><p>We didn’t look up again until one of the officers leaned into the room and tentatively cleared his throat. Just from the look on his face I could tell something was wrong. Hotch sat his folder down; the rest of the team looked as solemn as I felt. </p><p>“They found the victim’s body.”</p><p>Wordlessly, the team got to their feet, sharing looks between each other that I couldn’t quite read yet. I was already fixing to stay here, make myself as useful as I could, but Hotch paused at my side. </p><p>“Have you ever seen a crime scene before?” For a moment I wanted to lie, make it sound like I had at least a little experience on my side. But my integrity had me shaking my head before I could even think about doing so. “Do you think it’s something you can handle?”</p><p>“Yes sir,” I promised, giving a curt nod. He jerked his head, motioning after the team. I got up quickly and hurried after him; to no surprise, Strauss fell into step with us. </p><p>“Is this really something an unexperienced intern should be participating in?” she mock-whispered to Hotch, knowing full-well I could hear her. I bit my tongue, knowing better than to let my smart attitude get me into deeper hot water with her than I was already in. “She’s not even properly dressed.”</p><p>“I would believe that Aria’s outfit is something she’s comfortable working in, or she would have changed before flying out here,” he said simply, not even glancing back to study my clothes. “She’s an intern, and she needs to begin building experience so she can better assist the team.”</p><p>Though she gave me another skeptical look, Strauss didn’t voice her doubts any further or object to his mention of me being on the team. I was counting that as I good sign; I’d definitely earned one by now. Morgan, JJ, Emily, and the police chief were already piled into one of the black SUV’s. Hotch climbed into the second one, and Strauss got in the front. Reid and I both skirted to the back and climbed in, barely shutting the doors before Hotch was taking off. </p><p>He and Strauss fell into a conversation I figured I didn’t need to listen in on, so I turned my attention out the window. When I felt eyes on me, I glanced aside and saw Reid studying me. He blinked when our eyes met and instantly looked straight ahead. </p><p>“You – uh, have you ever been to a crime scene?” he asked, voice catching as he rushed to ask the question, hands fiddling with the strap of his bag he had slung across his chest. I shook my head and admitted, </p><p>“I’m not sure how I’ll handle it, to be honest.”</p><p>It was becoming clear to me that Reid really wasn’t that social. Honestly, his nervousness put me a little more at ease. I never knew how to act around cute guys, and at least this meant I wasn’t the only one struggling not to be awkward. </p><p>“It’s never easy, so if – um, if it gets to be too much, you can always just step away. We’ll understand,” he said after a few moments, and then turned his gaze back to me for just a heartbeat. “But if Gideon thought you fit the team, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”</p><p>His words settled deep within me, comforting the nagging question of my belonging. It was pretty clear that having Gideon vouch for me the way he had was a rarity and the more I kept getting tied back to him the more I was appreciating how much he’d done for me. </p><p>As we arrived at the scene I hopped out and fell into step behind Hotch and Strauss, Reid at my side. As we neared the body my pace slowed, so much that I ended up beside Morgan. As if sensing my unease, he rested a hand on my back to guide me forward with him.</p><p>Seeing pictures of victims in class was nothing compared to staring at the lifeless body in front of me. To my surprise I didn’t feel disgusted or horrified, like I’d been expecting. No, all that ran through me was a deep, aching sadness. </p><p>This woman had been a wife, a mother. Instantly my mind went to the memories of Jude. The unbearable, heart wrenching pain of losing my brother echoed in me now; within the hour, her family would be going through the same thing I had. </p><p>My face stayed neutral as I fought back my emotions. Now wasn’t the time or the place to be upset; I had a job to do. Morgan, sensing the whirl of feelings within me, gave a gentle pat on my back before stepping up with Hotch. </p><p>Strauss, though, moved to walk ahead of them to examine the body closer. Her heel caught on the uneven ground and she stumbled forward, slumping into the fence. Instantly Hotch was at her side, pulling her back. </p><p>As she turned to look up at him, I saw the distress clear on her face; as nasty as she’d been with me, I couldn’t help but feel for her. From what I’d gathered back at Quantico, she never really dealt with this end of investigations. She was in the same boat as me. </p><p>Hotch murmured something to her and jerked his head back. She nodded quickly and then tried to get her balance to get out of the ditch. Instinct and compassion drove me forward. I held out my hand to her and she took it without hesitation as I all but pulled her out of the ditch. </p><p>She rushed back from the scene and practically bolted for the vehicles. After exchanging a quick glance with JJ for confirmation, I hurried after her. She leaned against the hood of the vehicle for several moments, taking deep breaths with her eyes squeezed shut. I ducked into the back of the SUV and dug through my bag, finding a spare bottle of juice. </p><p>Strauss eyed me as I sat it next to her; I offered a small smile before skirting past to rejoin the others. </p><p>--</p><p>By the time we got back to the station and had piled into the office, Strauss was back to her usual self. She sat in the back of the room, arms crossed as she watched the rest of us work. Well, by <i>us</i> I meant the team. I’d just gathered the empty coffee cups and files to try and keep things neat for the others as they were putting together the puzzle. </p><p><i>Aria, don’t just stand around, make yourself useful. Success only comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it</i>, I heard mom chiding. Even after years of being on my own I still found myself conscious of making sure I wasn’t being lazy or wasteful. At least the team’s workspaces would always be clean.</p><p>“We’ll need to go back to the files. Eliminate the third ward, and target problem kids whose fathers held blue collar jobs over the last ten years,” Hotch was saying. As I grabbed the cups off the table, my hand faltered and I paused, frown furrowing my brow as a thought came to mind.</p><p>“Aria?” </p><p>I looked up from the table and met Hotch’s gaze. He’d seen my thinking face; he really <i>was</i> super observant. I cleared my throat and looked around the room. All eyes were on me, all apparently waiting for me to speak. No pressure or anything. </p><p>“Oh, no. It’s nothing. I just thought… What if he’s –”</p><p>“Miss DiMaggio, please don’t interrupt. We’re pressed for time, in case you’ve forgotten,” Strauss cut in, exasperation in her tone. As I shut my mouth, though, Morgan sat up a little more and met my gaze now too. </p><p>“What is it, kid?” </p><p>I glanced back at Hotch and he gave a quick, curt nod. Clearing my throat, I began to twist my fingers as I said quietly, </p><p>“What if he’s not a problem child?”</p><p>“What?” Emily asked, surprise in her voice. I glanced back at her, and then around the table. </p><p>“I – it’s off the textbook behavior, but... Sometimes when a parent is unstable, especially if the other parent’s out of the picture, a child will do anything to be seen as perfect, to make sure they’re not a cause of stress or frustration.”</p><p>The rest of the team shared looks of consideration as Emily sat forward a bit to elaborate, </p><p>“Like abducting women for your father?”</p><p>“They’d never be late for school,” Reid voiced, nodding as he spoke. “Even with the abductions, the disposal of the bodies, it’s always perfectly timed so the kid will be on time to school. And – and I don’t think the killer would care.”</p><p>“The child would,” I finished, glancing over to Reid and giving a smile. We’d hit the same brainwave. From the looks Hotch was sharing with Morgan and Emily, it seemed that we might be onto something. </p><p>Reid and JJ took off to go follow up on a possible lead Penelope had found based on what I’d brought up. Meanwhile, I busied myself on helping Hotch and Morgan go through more of the files. In case the possible suspect we’d narrowed down turned out to be a fluke, we wanted to be prepared.</p><p>As it happened, though, we’d hit the nail on the head. </p><p>“We’ll head to the address now,” Reid said over speakerphone. Hotch motioned for the rest of us to gather our things as he nodded to the handset. </p><p>“Wait for backup. We’ll be there shortly.”</p><p>I moved to follow the others out of the room, and Strauss was suddenly in front of me. Her thin lips drew together again and she shook her head. </p><p>“Assisting the investigation is one thing, but I won’t permit you to join in a raid when you’re not even qualified to be on this team in the first place.”</p><p>Morgan, the closest to us, paused when he heard what Strauss had said. He stopped in his tracks and moved back to stand beside us as he gave her a hard look. </p><p>“She’s with the team. She can come with us. We’ll keep her back -”</p><p>“I said no, and that’s final, Agent Morgan,” she cut in, clearly not in the mood to be usurped again today. He moved to argue again and I said quickly,</p><p>“I can stay here and get things together. It’s probably best I sit this one out.”</p><p>Though I could tell Morgan wanted to keep going, he must’ve picked up on the look I was trying to be subtle about. We’d poked the blonde-haired bear enough the last twelve hours and it was already gonna be hard enough coming back from what Hotch, Emily, and myself had done. </p><p>There was no need to give her more reasons to be upset with any of us. Stifling a sigh, Morgan just gave a curt nod – pressed for time – and rushed to follow the others. I didn’t miss the smug smile on Strauss’ face as she left me behind. </p><p>--</p><p>To say it had been a long day was an understatement. </p><p>Though still bitter that I hadn’t been able to join the team during the raid, Morgan and JJ had taken it upon themselves to fill me in on the way to the BAU’s private jet. Strauss was surprisingly quiet, not even sparing a dirty look my way the whole ride. She’d settled into the seat farthest from the team, back to me, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. </p><p>I’d been absorbed in a book when a shadow fell over me. When I looked up, Hotch was settled in the seat across from me. He leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach as he studied me. </p><p>“You’re having doubts about the team,” he began. I shrugged my shoulders in response, unsure of what to say, so he elaborated. “You don’t feel as though you have a place with us.”</p><p>For just a moment, I deliberated on trying to lie to Hotch. The pride inside of me wanted to stand strong, make it seem like I was doing just fine. But the weight in the pit of my stomach – and the shimmer of understanding in his eyes – had me confessing before I could second-guess.</p><p>“Gideon orchestrated this whole thing. And without him here I feel like I was just thrown at you guys. It’s clear I’m not qualified,” I said softly, eyes flicking to the back of Strauss’ head. “I just... you all have a crazy stressful job. I don’t want to make things worse when I’m not even sure I should be here.”</p><p>Hotch nodded, as if he were absorbing the words in his mind. Finally, he shifted to sit forward, elbows propped on his knees and hands coming together as his gaze burned into me. </p><p>“Do you know what Gideon said to me the night he met you?” he asked me, raising his brows as I slowly shook my head. “He told me, <i>Aaron, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I found your replacement</i>.”</p><p>I let his words sink in as I stared at Hotch in surprise. Again, I saw the small flicker of a smile as I asked in a small voice,</p><p>“Did he really?”</p><p>He gave a small nod and said softly, just so I could hear him, </p><p>“I don’t think we’ll be seeing Gideon again, at least not for quite a long time. Which means the last thing he did before he left this team was use all of his ties and all of his authority to get your internship approved.”</p><p>My heart honestly skipped a beat as my words caught in my throat. Not only at the realization that Gideon was indeed not showing up, but at the weight of all he’d done for me. “He spent his last moments with the FBI making sure you made it to our team. Trust me, that’s not an easy thing for anyone to do. He clearly saw something in you, and he wanted to be sure we saw it too.”</p><p>“I don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to let <i>any</i> of you down,” I admitted, and now I got a full-blown smile from the stoic-faced agent, something I got the feeling he didn’t do very often. </p><p>“From what I’ve seen of you in the last day, I don’t think that’ll be a problem. As long as we haven’t scared you away, I’ll be making sure that Strauss won’t undo what Gideon put together for you. It was important to him that you became a part of this team and I’m here to see it through. If you want the internship, Aria, it’s yours.”</p><p>“I want it,” I said instantly, surprising myself completely. There had been no hesitation in my desire to stay with the team. Despite the insane turmoil of the last two days and storm of panic, confusion, and chaos my life had been since last month, I meant it. I wanted to do Gideon proud, to do them <i>all</i> proud. Hotch made a point. Gideon had seen something in me, and I wasn’t letting this slip through my fingers, even if I didn’t quite see it yet myself. </p><p>All the doubt, all the uncertainty that had been plaguing me seemed to wash away the moment I said those three words. Hotch sensed the determination within me, and he stuck out his hand. I took it and gave a firm shake as he said,</p><p>“Welcome to the BAU.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying the story so far! I know it's early and the first few chapters are slow, but I hope you stick around because the farther we go, the crazier the ride gets!</p><p>I promise this will be a well-involved story - I have this mapped out (right now) through season 12 and plan to go through 15. So, if you're in for the long haul so am I!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Elevator</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x03 - Scared to Death</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/616583239362101248/the-elevator-dropped-without-warning-and-all-three">Chapter GIF</a></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Penelope's phone erupted in rings and the three of us piled on my twin bed jolted awake. Emily let out a yelp as she tumbled to the floor and I nearly followed her down, barely snagging the edge of my mattress before I slipped off.</p><p>"Sorry, sorry," Penelope mumbled, patting around the bed to find the culprit that’d woken us up. Once located, she tugged it closer and then put her head back down on top of it. "H'lo?... Yes sir. No need – they’re both with me, I’ll let ‘em know. We can be there in half an hour."</p><p>"Case?" I piped up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Penelope nodded; Emily groaned from the ground. </p><p>"Of course. No rest for the wicked," she griped, shoving to her feet and giving a yawn as she turned to Penelope. "I thought it was close to an hour drive."</p><p>"Not if you drive like Aria," Penelope corrected; I scoffed at her accusation. </p><p>“I went the speed limit!” I began and she actually snorted. </p><p>“For <i>what</i>, a drag race!? The drive down here took years off my life.”</p><p>Emily just shrugged and waved her hand at us. </p><p>"Good, less of a commute then. I’ll just ride up with you two and get my car later.”</p><p>“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Penelope called after her as she headed for the lobby. </p><p><i>Honestly</i>. She was such a drama queen.</p><p>As Emily slipped out of my dorm room, I stretched and began to slowly gather what I'd need. Now that I was officially secured as the BAU's intern, I'd spent the weekend getting set up at my new school. The University of Virginia was beautiful, relatively close by, and thankfully Gideon had arranged all I needed to start my classes in a few days. He'd even managed to get me a dorm room to myself. </p><p>Penelope drove down with me Friday night and Emily showed up yesterday morning to help finish settling me in. Though the last week with the team had shown me that literally everyone –besides Strauss – were amazing people, I'd really grown closer to the two of them. I’d practically been on my own in Seattle and I’d been missing my sister a lot, but with those two around the emptiness in my heart was filled more than it had been in quite a while. </p><p>We met Emily in the lobby of my dorm room just a few minutes later. She had a latte for Penelope and fresh-brewed tea for me.</p><p>"No sugar, just lemon," she promised as I took the cup gratefully. It seemed at times like everyone on the team was more conscious of my diabetes than I was. After growing up with parents who’d never taken it seriously, it was a refreshing change that made me feel even more at home. </p><p>The three of us shuffled out to my loaner car and we were off to Quantico. As Penelope had promised, I swung into the parking garage in <i>just</i> under thirty minutes. Emily hadn’t taken her terrified, wild-eyed stare off me, even as we piled into the elevator. </p><p>"How the <i>hell</i> did you get your license?" she demanded. Penelope tried to smother her laughter as I made a noise of indignation. </p><p>"I am a perfectly safe driver," I argued, and this time Emily snorted with Penelope. As we stepped off the elevator, bickering about my NASCAR-esque driving skills, we were instantly met by Hotch. </p><p>Though his face was usually stern and unforgiving, today it was exceptionally so. He had a file in his hand labeled <i>GIDEON, JASON</i>. The three of us exchanged looks. </p><p>"Agent Gideon has resigned from his position with the FBI," Hotch told us; his words were like a blow to the stomach. Instantly, the joking, lighthearted atmosphere died out and we were left with sad, surprising disbelief. The breath left me and for several moments I stood in front of him, stunned. We knew about the letter he'd left Reid, and though Hotch admitted he didn't think we'd see Gideon again I hadn't thought he'd ever actually resign. </p><p>Emily and Penelope shared looks, and they took off for the bullpen where we could see the rest of the team gathered. I hesitated and Hotch turned to give me a questioning look. </p><p>"I'm sorry," I told him softly.</p><p>He blinked at me, clearly not expecting me to say that. I was ridiculously empathetic and usually laid on the comfort and kind words when someone was upset, but Hotch was as mushy and emotional as a common houseplant. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, I left it at that and hurried off after the other two. </p><p>Reid was at his own desk and Morgan had taken a seat on the edge of mine. Emily was beside Reid, hand on his shoulder. JJ and Penelope were in Gideon's office, which was still packed full of things.</p><p>"Mornin', kid," Morgan said as I paused beside my desk, setting my purse and go-bag beside him. Though he gave a smile, I could see the sadness behind it. </p><p>“Morning!” I chirped, offering him the brightest smile I could, which thankfully got his to widen just a hint. </p><p>“Ay, there’s that sunny sweetness,” he murmured, roping me into a brief hug before playfully nudging me away. Satisfied with my impact on him, I shifted my gaze to Reid. He was holding the letter Gideon had left him, reading it for what had to be the hundredth time. I wanted to say something, but what could I offer that he hadn't already heard? </p><p>I knew Gideon the least and had been on the team only nine days now. Did I really get to try and comfort the others in the loss they were all feeling?</p><p>I'd do what I was good at - getting the team ready to tackle the day. JJ was just carrying the stack of files to the conference room, which meant we had a new case. So, determined to help get everyone going, I hustled to make the drinks. By the time I had them all prepared, Hotch was just walking in ahead of me. As I began to pass the cups out to everyone, he cleared his throat and stepped up to the front of the table.</p><p>"I know that we've all been wondering what this was all about. I've known Jason for many years, and I can tell you... I have no idea." The whole room was silent, staring up at our fearless leader. Hotch made eye contact with each and every one of us, making sure we all were included. That we were all together on this. "But it doesn't matter. Right now, all that matters is that we're here, and we're going to continue doing what we know."</p><p>All of us gave slow, accepting nods and Hotch met them with one back. Clearing his throat, he turned to start presenting the case. I sat his cup down on the table in front of him and settled into the open seat beside Reid. </p><p>"Portland field office uncovered a mass grave with three bodies killed six months ago. Nearby, they found another body. The causes of death range from burning alive to asphyxiation."</p><p>As I tugged out my notebook, I couldn't help the face I made. The pictures of the bodies on the screen didn't help; I focused on jotting down notes while the team asked more questions. </p><p>"The most recent victim is Jenny Whitman," Hotch pressed on. "Asphyxiated, discovered yesterday."</p><p>"How long was she missing?" I asked, glancing up at him. Hotch met my gaze with a troubled expression. </p><p>"She was never reported missing."</p><p>My brows furrowed as the others all looked up from the files, as surprised as I was. Reid leaned forward. </p><p>"What about the others?"</p><p>"Only one," Hotch answered. I tilted my head to the side, studying the case file and then the police reports that flicked onto the screen behind him; this just didn't make sense. </p><p>"One of <i>four</i>?" I confirmed. He gave a single nod as JJ piped up,</p><p>"Rick Holland was reported missing nine months ago, but the search was called off."</p><p>As the rest of the team dove into more probing questions I jotted down my notes, making points that I wanted to clear up once we got to the station and the questions the team asked. I was learning more from a week with the BAU than I had in two years at school. </p><p>We had our work cut out for us, that was for sure. But even without Gideon, I knew the team could solve this. Hotch wrapped up the briefing and dismissed us with <i>Wheels up in thirty</i>. </p><p>Time to solve the mystery.</p><p>--</p><p>So far, the case was much more exciting for me than the last one in Milwaukee had been. Sure, that had <i>technically</i> been my first case. This time, though, we were Strauss-free and I was actually <i>with</i> the team. As we walked into the Portland police office, JJ led us all through to her contact. </p><p>"You must be the BAU," the officer said, shaking JJ's hand. "Special Agent Bill Calvert."</p><p>"Hi. Jennifer Jareau. This is SSA Aaron Hotchner, these are Agents Morgan, Prentiss, Dr. Reid, and our intern, Miss DiMaggio."</p><p>I gave a wide smile at my name as Agent Calvert gave us nods of thanks. Hotch stepped up and didn't waste any time jumping in. </p><p>"We'd like to take a look around Jenny Whitman's apartment." </p><p>Agent Calvert nodded and assured, "of course. I'll get you the address and have the landlord ready to let you in."</p><p>Hotch sat his bag down on the table and turned to the group. "Morgan, Reid, Aria, with me. The rest of you, get us set up here. We'll meet back in an hour."</p><p>Surprised at hearing my name, I fell into step with Hotch and looked up at him. Even with me in my heels he had a good eight inches on me. </p><p>"Are you sure you want me there too? I thought you'd want me to get things set up."</p><p>"You're here to learn about profiling and there's no better way to do that than in the field,” he told me simply, and lowered his voice a hint. “I know Strauss wasn't the best welcome, but I want you to know that you're a part of our team. And that means you'll be with us in all aspects – not just getting us coffee and tidying up tables."</p><p>"Really?" I asked excitedly, pausing at the SUV to wait for Morgan and Reid. He nodded and a shiver of anticipation raced through me. </p><p>With no experience and not even a degree to my name yet, I thought that I'd be staying in the stations and hanging back, like Strauss had me doing in Milwaukee. This was even better than I'd hoped for.</p><p>"We'll get you set up with weapons courses after this case and start getting you caught up to our speed with profiler classes that are essential to the job. For now, I want you with myself and if I'm not around, I want you with Morgan. No going off on your own. Understood?"</p><p>"Yes sir," I affirmed, unable to help the giddy smile that came over my face. He spared me the flicker of one in return and then got into the vehicle. I hopped in back with Reid, and once Morgan climbed into the passenger's seat we took off for the victim's apartment. </p><p>--</p><p>"Whitman's place is on the fourth floor," Reid told us as we entered her building ten minutes later. We gathered at the elevator, and as the doors slid open all of us hesitated. It was <i>way</i> smaller than we'd been expecting. </p><p>"No stair-mastering for me today," Morgan declared, slipping in first. Reid followed suit, which definitely didn't leave room for both Hotch and I. </p><p>"Can you guys fit?" Reid asked uncertainly, looking between us. Morgan shrugged and moved back, smirking down at me. </p><p>"Well I know lil miss sunshine sure can. She's travel-sized for our convenience."</p><p>I narrowed my eyes at him as he snickered to himself. </p><p>"Real funny, Mr. Clean."</p><p>The smirk fell off his face and came onto mine instead as Reid bit back a smile. </p><p>"I'll take the stairs," Hotch announced, giving us a bemused look. I scuttled into the elevator and managed to wedge myself in front of Reid and Morgan. It was a tight fit, but I preferred it over climbing four flights of stairs. "I'll meet you guys up there."</p><p>I gave Hotch a small wave as the doors slid shut. The elevator shuddered and then slowly began its upward descent. The three of us stood in silence, all watching the floors tick by. As we hit the third floor, the light on the panel flickered, and the elevator lurched to a jarring stop. </p><p>"Well that’s not good," I said slowly, twisting my fingers together as alarm spiked through me. Morgan gave a jump that made the whole lift shudder again and both Reid and I braced, whipping our heads around to look up at Morgan as he did it again.</p><p>"Don't do that," Reid barked; we were all packed so close I could feel him tensing up. Morgan jumped again and I threw my hand back to smack him in the chest. </p><p>"Morgan!"</p><p>"Why isn't it movin'?" he asked, starting to jump again. </p><p>"I don't know but that’s not helping!" I chided. Instead of jumping, he reached around me and began to jam all the buttons he could reach. "<i>Don't</i>!" I snapped, shoving his arm back. He just reached around to press more of them, blocking my futile attempts to stop him.  </p><p>"Stop it! Would you – <i>don't</i>!" Reid yelped, reaching across the front of me to push Morgan's hand down in my place. "Don't do that!"</p><p>"What? Why not?" Morgan asked, hint of mischief in his voice. He was totally enjoying freaking us out. Asshole. </p><p>"Because there are six elevator-related deaths per year, not to mention 10,000 injuries that require hospitalization. <i>Chill out</i>!" Reid demanded; his statistics only made the panic in my chest tighten. </p><p>"Yeah, knock it off!" I squeaked out, looking up in alarm as the elevator gave an ominous groan. </p><p>"Those sound like pretty good odds to me. What, are you two scared?"</p><p>"I'm not scared!" Reid argued; Morgan began mashing buttons again. </p><p>"Morgan would you stop!?" I yelped, shoving his arm down <i>again</i>. </p><p>"Oh, you're both totally scared. What, is this scaring you?"</p><p>"I don't want to be in an elevator ever again with you, to be honest," Reid snapped, voice going up an octave as the fear mounted. He reached around me again to swat at Morgan's hand. </p><p>"How about if I push these? How about all at once? Huh? What'll -"</p><p>The elevator dropped without warning and all three of us gave shouts of alarm, slamming back into each other. Reid's arm that had been stretched across me wrapped tight around my waist to steady himself, thankfully keeping me upright as my legs turned to jello. The elevator swayed ominously and gave a few dangerous shudders. </p><p>One of my hands locked onto Reid's arm, the other onto Morgan's. The cocky man in the corner yanked his hand off the buttons and we stood in petrified silence as the elevator creaked and finally came to a stop again. </p><p>"Woah, woah. Okay," Morgan managed; I didn't take my death grip off either of the guys. </p><p>"Um, hit the – hit the –" Reid motioned to the emergency call button with the arm I was clinging to. </p><p>"Press it, press it!" I squeaked to Morgan. He hit it and nothing happened. </p><p>"Morgan! Push it –" Reid yelled.</p><p>"I'm pushin' it! See? Push-pull-push-pull!" Morgan yelled back as he jammed the button, just as scared as Reid and I were now. I was too freaked out to even enjoy the dose of karma he was getting. Morgan hit the button another couple of times but clearly nothing was happening. I finally dropped my hold on his arm to tug at his shirt. </p><p>"You have muscles! Just – just pry the door open!"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah!" Morgan breathed, abandoning the button instantly. He nudged me over in front of Reid, out of his way to make room for clawing at the doors. They creaked but wouldn't move. "They're – I can't! It's stuck!"</p><p>"What do you mean <i>stuck</i>?!" I squeaked, and the elevator dropped again. </p><p>Reid's arm, still around me, pulled me tighter to him as I let out a full scream this time. Morgan fell back into us and I clung to both him and Reid as the elevator went unsteadily still again. </p><p>"No, no, no, <i>no</i>! Not today, not like this!" Morgan hissed, bracing his hands again against the sides of the tiny elevator. </p><p>"Hotch!" I squeaked out, praying he had super-hearing. Or, y’know, a sixth sense for when his agents were about to die in an elevator. </p><p>"Hotch!" Reid yelped, much louder than I'd managed. </p><p>"<i>Hotch</i>!" Morgan shouted, slamming his finger on the emergency call button again. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.</p><p>Morgan surged forward so fast he fell into the wall across from us. I burst out after him and tumbled into Hotch, who thankfully had quick enough reflexes to keep me upright. Reid slowly crept forward like he was having a hard time getting his legs to move, clinging to the frame of the elevator as he took deep breaths. </p><p>"Was that the alarm? Are you guys okay?" Hotch asked as I righted myself,<br/>
smoothing down my skirt with shaking hands as I made a noise of uncertainty. Reid gave him a haunted stare as he finally inched all the way off the elevator to lean against the wall, catching his breath.</p><p>"I'll get back to you on that," he managed; Morgan and I nodded in agreement, words still not coming back to us. Hotch just chuckled and shook his head. </p><p>"Let's go," he said, leading the way down the hall. Morgan, Reid, and I all exchanged equal looks of shared horror as we shuffled after our leader.</p><p>Morgan pulled ahead and I glanced at Reid as we fell into shaky step together. He glanced at me when he felt me staring and I offered an apologetic smile.</p><p>"I'm sorry for practically attaching to you. I know you're not really fond of being touched and I kind of, like, mauled you," I added, seeing the red marks on his arm from my nails. </p><p>Reid just shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, giving a mildly unsteady quirked smile as we followed the other two. His cheeks tinted pink and he cleared his throat before finally managing a shrug.</p><p>"It's fine. It was a... <i>unique</i> situation and we both acted as expected. I'm sorry if I hurt you when I grabbed you."</p><p>I shook my head as I toyed with the hem of my skirt, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. Okay, now that I was thinking about it, Dr. Reid and I <i>had</i> been pretty close. I hadn't even held onto my last boyfriend like I just had with him. This had done absolutely nothing to squash the schoolgirl crush I’d developed. </p><p>"You kept me on my feet, to be honest," I joked. "Heels are <i>not</i> made for elevator emergencies."</p><p>Reid chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. </p><p>"I can't confirm that," he started, and a sly smile curled over his lips. "But I'm sure Morgan has some experience in that department."</p><p>Morgan, hearing his name, threw a suspicious glance over his shoulder at us as I stifled a snort. "You two got somethin’ to say?"</p><p>"No idea what you're talking about," I scoffed. He narrowed his eyes and turned back around as Reid and I snickered with one another. </p><p>Despite the elevator mishap, today was turning into a pretty good day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you guys for the comments and kudos! Your support means a lot to me! I'm so happy to hear you're liking it so far. After today I'm going to be posting once a week - possibly twice a week if I've got the time. </p><p>Please let me know your thoughts - I love hearing what you think of Aria and the story so far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Rambling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x03 - Scared to Death</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With the first day of the case come and gone, we were unfortunately not any closer to getting it solved. Reid, Hotch, and I were gathered in a conference room, all taking turns reading through the interviews with the families. </p>
<p>I popped a handful of grapes into my mouth and offered the bag out to Reid; he gave me a thankful smile but shook his head. As Hotch walked by I held them up to him and he took a few as he mulled over the evidence board. </p>
<p>"Aria, tell me what you've gathered from the victims so far," he mused, back to me but still attentive as I shifted to sit up a little more. </p>
<p>"Well, it's clear they all had rifts within their families," I began, flipping open one of the files. <i>Not that I noticed it immediately because it mirrors my own life</i>, I thought idly. "Jenny had a falling out with her mother right before she left, and that kind of inner turmoil would definitely leave her emotionally vulnerable."</p>
<p>"And the other victims, they had these same sorts of run-ins?" </p>
<p>I <i>mhmm</i>'d in agreement as I flipped through the other files. "All of them. It varies between parents, siblings - even children for some - but all the turmoil is there."</p>
<p>"Interesting," he said, and glanced at me over his shoulder. "Good attention to detail."</p>
<p>As I gave him a wide smile in thanks his phone rang and snapped us out of our profiling lesson. </p>
<p>"Hotchner," he said, and sat the phone on the desk in front of Reid and I.</p>
<p>"The landlady Prentiss spoke to was right to be worried," Morgan sighed. "They just found Patrick Walker drowned in the river."</p>
<p>"And it was exactly what we predicted. He found a new place to dump the body."</p>
<p>The three of us slumped in frustration. Chin propped in my hand, I turned to study the board as Hotch scribbled '<i>drowned</i>' and tacked it up on the board. </p>
<p>"Fire, hanging, asphyxiation, and now we've got a drowning," I murmured, brain running around with the possibilities, tapping my chin idly as I reread the notes. Reid got to his feet, coming up beside Hotch at the board. </p>
<p>"I think... I think it's someone who's afraid of drowning."</p>
<p>Hotch and I both gave Reid a curious look. Damn tall people blocking the board and towering over me. I had to get up and stand between them just to see what they were eyeballing.  </p>
<p>"What do you mean?" Hotch asked. Reid turned back to the table to rifle through the papers I'd been studying.</p>
<p>"It hit me when Morgan freaked out when we were stuck in the elevator," Reid said. A giggle escaped me and Emily asked Morgan on the other end,</p>
<p>"You got stuck in an elevator?"</p>
<p>"<i>I</i> freaked? What about you and tweedledum?" Morgan scoffed. I threw a quick smile to Reid and didn't miss the flick of his lips as he smothered his own. </p>
<p>"Well, that's not important. Here's what is. If you look at the M.O.'s of the victims, what do they all have in common?"</p>
<p>My eyes widened at his words and I turned back to the board. </p>
<p>"They could all be classified as anxiety disorders," I said in surprise. Realization dawned on Hotch's stern face. </p>
<p>"It's right out of the diagnostics and statistics manual," Reid continued, and I nodded eagerly. </p>
<p>"It focuses on five subtypes of phobias," I picked up, and tapped the board with what he had outlined. Hotch came up to my side and studied what I pointed to, noting,</p>
<p>"Most of these are environmental <i>and</i> situational."</p>
<p>"Exactly," Reid and I said at the same time. We each glanced at one another, smiles sparking briefly before we turned back to Hotch. </p>
<p>"So it's all about the fear?" Morgan realized; Hotch nodded solemnly. </p>
<p>"These people are being killed by their fears."</p>
<p>"We gotta find out how he's selecting his victims," Emily said after a heartbeat of silence from the rest of us. "We're running out of time."</p>
<p>"Aria and Reid, I want you two to meet Morgan and Prentiss downtown. Split up and search the places we know the victims frequented - the laundromat, the gym, the coffee shops - and see what you can find."</p>
<p>As Hotch hung up the phone, he dug into his pocket and handed me the keys to one of the SUV's. </p>
<p>"Reid doesn't drive. Are you comfortable with doing so?"</p>
<p>"Oh yeah, don’t listen to Emily about my driving. I'm fine with it," I promised; he raised a slow brow of concern. I grabbed the keys before he could second-guess, turning to Reid with a smile. "Ready?"</p>
<p>As Reid nodded, Hotch stepped up. "Keep an eye on one another, and do not go off alone. Understood?"</p>
<p>"Yes sir," I affirmed, giving him a reassuring smile. "We'll be safe."</p>
<p>Reid nodded his agreement as we took off for the SUV. I typed in the address that Morgan had texted me into the GPS and we were off. </p>
<p>"Do you have a music preference?" I asked, reaching to adjust the radio. I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye. </p>
<p>"Whatever you prefer. I don't listen to a lot of music."</p>
<p>"Really?" I asked in surprise, switching to a classic rock station and putting it down lower so we could talk. "Music is my life."</p>
<p>Instead of adding onto the conversation, Reid simply <i>hmm</i>'d and turned to stare out the window. Though he usually hid it well, I knew he had at least some level of social anxiety.<br/>
Not that I minded at all, honestly. Jude had been the same way and I was used to the quiet; I was comfortable with silence if that's what he preferred. As we drove, I switched stations until I found a pop song I recognized, instantly beginning to hum along and bob my head.  </p>
<p>"You sing?" Reid asked at the end of the song, jarring me out of my thoughts. I gave him a sheepish smile when I realized I had, at some point, started singing instead of just humming. I did it all the time when I drove that I hadn't even noticed.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, I know that's really annoying. My mom always tried to get me to stop but it never stuck."</p>
<p>"Your mom doesn't like your singing?" he asked curiously. Not wanting to delve into my past with a profiler, I just shrugged. </p>
<p>"Not particularly. My mom always told me '<i>idle lips are the devil's mouthpiece</i>', and to her, singing is just idle babbling." I winced as I realized how harsh that had come off. "That sounded worse than I meant. She's really not <i>too</i> bad."</p>
<p>He shrugged, understanding my intent, and asked,</p>
<p>"Is your family very religious?"</p>
<p>"Eh, my mom tried with us. She was born and raised in Italy, and my grandparents are devout Catholics. My dad wasn't religious at all, so he wasn't really passionate about Sunday Church or praying, you know?"</p>
<p>Reid nodded and, to my surprise, instead of going quiet again he said simply,</p>
<p>"Your singing isn't annoying to me. You have a nice voice."</p>
<p>Well I could just feel my cheeks heating up. Really, outside of my car or my dorm room, I only sang in choir. And, since my parents never came to my concerts in high school (they didn't support my passion for music and made it clear) and Aubrianna had always been too busy with the kids to make it, I never really sing in front of people I knew.</p>
<p>"Thank you, that means a lot," I admitted to him, glancing over as we stopped at another light. Before I got lost in my incessant crush I added, “do you have any hobbies?"</p>
<p>"I play chess," he said, and then to my surprise, he kept going. It was like I’d finally found the mouth of his inner river and I’d released the current. "I read. I love to read. I read 20,000 words per minute, so I go through a lot of books. I have an eidetic memory, and I like map-reading. I've started doing a lot of geographical profiling and it's fascinating. Did you know that many cartographers use a method called <i>paper towns</i>? It's a copywrite trap that..." </p>
<p>I looked over when Reid went silent and saw <i>his</i> cheeks tinting pink as he pressed his lips together. I frowned and glanced at him again as we drove. </p>
<p>"What's wrong?"</p>
<p>"I'm rambling," he apologized, hands wrapping around the strap of his bag in what I assumed was a nervous habit, just like my fidgeting hands. "I didn't mean to go into all that."</p>
<p>"You don't need to stop," I told him. His head snapped up and I glanced over again to see a look of genuine confusion. "I don't mind, honestly."</p>
<p>As we pulled off into a side lot by the building Emily and Morgan were waiting in, I turned the SUV off but didn't get out. Instead, I shifted to face him and offered a small smile; it was clear he didn't really believe me. </p>
<p>"I like hearing what you have to say. You don't speak up a lot," I pointed out, and his eyes dropped to study his sneakers. "But when you do, you always fascinate me."</p>
<p>He peeked up at me, looking honestly taken aback. I waited for him to speak this time, showing him I meant what I said. </p>
<p>"That's the first time anyone's ever told me that," he admitted, wringing his hands around his bag strap. "Most people just see me as annoying. They think I’m trying to show off or that... I'm a freak."</p>
<p>The hurt he was trying to mask in his voice was clear and honest. He really didn't get told he was fascinating, and my heart twisted at the expression on his face. It was one I was too familiar with. One I’d made for the first 18 years of my life, living with my parents.  </p>
<p>"I promise you I don't think that," I said gently, smiling when he looked back up at me as I added, "you remind me a lot of my brother, actually."</p>
<p>"Really?" he asked, tilting his head in curiosity. I nodded and felt nostalgia trickling through me, tightening my heart a bit more at the thought of my big brother. </p>
<p>"He was crazy into poetry. Plus, he loved the cosmos. Planets, stars, clouds, weather… everything up above. He'd always talk to me about why it rained, why the clouds were a certain shape, what stars were visible, how the plants aligned... man, and don't get him started on poetry. I swear he could quote every single Robert Frost poem in his sleep…”</p>
<p>Reid's uncertain gaze slowly shifted into a smile as I talked, actually listening to me as I went on and on about my brother. I almost forgot why I'd started down this rabbit hole, but pulled myself back in with another sheepish smile. </p>
<p>"Anyways, you remind me of him. The passion you have for all the things you know... I've missed those kinds of talks I used to have with Jude. So don't feel like you need to hold back around me, okay?"</p>
<p>He smiled, more to himself than to me, and dropped his gaze as he let my words sink in. When he looked back up, I could tell he'd lowered at least a few of the walls I knew he had in place. </p>
<p>"Thank you. That... really means a lot to me," he said as we both finally got out of the SUV. We fell into step with one another and he added, "I appreciate that you compare me to your brother. I can tell he's important to you."</p>
<p>"He is," I confirmed. "He passed away four years ago. Five, this coming January. So believe me when I say I welcome all the knowledge talks you want to give me."</p>
<p>We paused outside the coffee shop and Reid turned to look down at me, his soft brown eyes holding genuine empathy.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry you lost him," he said; I could tell the words were unfamiliar to him. I wouldn't be surprised to hear he really didn't try to empathize like this with a lot of people, and I felt touched that he was trying with me. </p>
<p>"Thank you," I told him honestly. "I am too."</p>
<p>Reid held the door for me and we slipped inside, wearing the smiles we'd given each other.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <span class="u">Spencer</span>
  </b>
</p>
<p>Statistically, it was a much nicer day in Portland than it usually was this late in the year. Spencer strolled beside Emily, hands shoved in his pockets as they made their way to the next laundromat. </p>
<p>The sun against his shoulders warmed him on the outside, while his conversation with Aria warmed him inside to the core. Normally between his own awkward and fumbling personality and his habit of overtalking, discussions with most people were strenuous at best. </p>
<p>With Aria, though, it was easy. For the first time he really felt he understood what <i>effortless conversation</i> truly meant. Sure, he had brief talks with Gideon, but both of them had been quiet and preferred the silence. Up until now, socializing was tedious, uncomfortable, and borderline painful; now he wanted another chance to talk with the BAU's intern. </p>
<p>"Earth to Reid," Emily laughed. Spencer blinked out of his thoughts and looked over at his friend. "You with me?"</p>
<p>"Sorry," he told her, giving a small smile. Emily shrugged and for a moment they went quiet again. She was closer to him than most, the closest other than JJ. She didn't mind their silence, but today she glanced back up at him. </p>
<p>"I asked you what you thought of Aria."</p>
<p>"Aria?" he asked, voice ticking up half an octave higher than it should have. Right – that’s what had sent him off on his trail of inner thoughts. He quickly cleared his throat. "What – uh, what about her?"</p>
<p>Emily's smirk was dangerous. </p>
<p>"Oh, I just wanted to know what you thought of our newest teammate. I noticed you're more talkative around her."</p>
<p>Spencer scoffed and willed the blush to stay off of his cheeks. </p>
<p>"I – I don't think I'm <i>more</i> talkative. It can be argued what's considered the average amount of discussion in casual conversation –"</p>
<p>"More than <i>you</i> usually talk, then," she countered, and shrugged mischievously. "If I understood Morgan correctly, he said you and Aria were <i>giggling</i>."</p>
<p>Spencer fixed his eyes straight ahead and shoved his hands further into his pockets. </p>
<p>"Maybe we were."</p>
<p>"You don't <i>giggle</i>," she pointed out. Spencer risked a side glance and saw that somehow the smirk had grown even more.</p>
<p>His cheeks were concerningly close to pink now, he could feel it. </p>
<p>"Apparently I <i>do</i>," he countered, trying to shrug non-nonchalantly. Emily nodded in agreement. </p>
<p>"With <i>Aria</i>, you do."</p>
<p>Spencer tried to scoff again as he shook his head. </p>
<p>"I don't get what you're trying to say –"</p>
<p>"Simple," she cut in, folding her arms as they paused outside the laundromat. "You <i>like</i> Aria."</p>
<p>Reid's face skipped pink altogether and flushed straight to bright red. He opened his mouth to argue and found for once, he had nothing to say. He snapped his mouth shut as his partner gave a victorious grin. </p>
<p>"We – we need to focus on the case, Emily –"</p>
<p>"Oh yeah, you like her. There's nothing wrong with that, Reid. She <i>is</i> pretty. She listens to you, she doesn't seem to mind your social nervousness, she hugged you in an elevator and you didn’t mind – even though you <i>hate</i> hugs –"</p>
<p>Spencer's face was burning. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as his mind whirred, trying to scramble and find a decent reply that didn’t dig him farther into the hole he’d fallen in.</p>
<p>"I – we didn't – I don't know what Morgan said, but it was a – an intense situation and she was scared and –" he pulled the door to the laundromat open and stepped aside, hurriedly waving her in. "– and I don't need to explain <i>anything</i> to you. We have a job to do and we just need to – to do it!"</p>
<p>Emily dissolved in a fit of snickering and Spencer scowled at her as she sauntered past him. </p>
<p>"Whatever you say, <i>lover boy</i>."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much to everyone that bookmarked and left kudos! I love seeing other people getting into the story! If you've got the time, I'd love to hear what you think so far! Your feedback means the world to me and just because I have it planned out doesn't mean I can't make changes if y'all have something you want to see!</p>
<p>I appreciate all of you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Phobias</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x03 - Scared to Death</i>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/616560628265615360/something-like-a-star-chapter-6-following-3x03">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morgan reached to steal another mini pretzel from my bag and I swatted his hand away. <i>Again</i>.</p>
<p>"Uh-uh, I offered to buy you your own and you said you didn't <i>like</i> pretzels," I told him, tucking the bag to my chest as we made our way back to the laundromat. The gym had been a bust but at least I’d found food. "You don't get to take mine!"</p>
<p>Morgan scoffed and shook his head, giving me a feigned look of betrayal. </p>
<p>"Oh that's cold for <i>little miss sunshine</i>. And here I thought you were this sweet, innocent lil ray’a kindness. Take down your walls and you're just <i>ice</i>."</p>
<p>"Hey, you're the one that keeps telling me to be myself," I teased, nudging his arm. "Those walls were there for your protection. <i>Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up</i>," I advised. Morgan let out a whistle and looked down at me. </p>
<p>"Now <i>that</i> was deep. You come up with that all on your own?"</p>
<p>"No," I giggled, giving him a look. "That's a quote from Robert Frost."</p>
<p>"What, did the Whiz Kid fill you up with stuff to use against me?"</p>
<p>"For your information, we were talking about maps earlier," I informed him. "I can quote poetry all on my own." Morgan's face took on a bemused expression and he lifted an aggressive eyebrow at me. "What?" </p>
<p>"You were talkin' maps with Reid? What, you like self-torture or something?"</p>
<p>I smacked his arm and gave him a look. </p>
<p>"Be nice! It was interesting! I like what he has to say."</p>
<p>"You think he's <i>interesting</i>, do you? What, so you like him?"</p>
<p>Well I hadn't been expecting that. I blinked, and when Morgan started laughing I glared up at him. </p>
<p>"I – yes, I do! He's really nice, and he's full of all these cool facts, and – <i>quit looking at me like that</i>!" I squeaked, giving him my most aggressive pout. Morgan threw his head back and laughed harder as I yanked the door to the laundromat open. "You're a jerk."</p>
<p>"Gotta have fun somehow, and I don't like talkin' about maps."</p>
<p>I opened my mouth to snap at him again when a tall, slender shadow fell over me. </p>
<p>"What about maps?" Reid asked, popping a pretzel in his mouth. For a moment I thought he'd somehow taken one out of my bag. </p>
<p>"All the vending machine snacks to choose from and you two pick the same thing," Emily laughed as Reid and I exchanged a surprised smile. As I turned to say something smart, I caught the look between her and Morgan. </p>
<p><i>That</i> was trouble if I'd ever seen it. </p>
<p>"Did you guys find anything?" I asked pointedly, trying to keep the blush off my cheeks. Thankfully, Emily snapped back into work mode and held up a flyer. </p>
<p>"Wow, that's a pretty good deal," I said, skimming the information. "$100 bucks for two sessions? Even <i>I'd</i> have a hard time turning that down."</p>
<p>"My thoughts exactly,” she nodded as I handed back the paper. “I think we should go to the coffee shops that victims two and three visited, see if the same flyer's hanging up."</p>
<p>"Good idea. If all the victims saw these fliers, we just found out how he casts his net," Morgan agreed, turning to leave and motioning for me to go after him.</p>
<p>"Oh no, I'm not going with Morgan again," I said to the group, holding my hands up. As I did, he snatched the bag of pretzels and immediately held them up where I couldn't reach. "Case and freaking point."</p>
<p>Emily rolled her eyes, and then that same gleam from earlier flickered in her eyes. </p>
<p>"Fair enough, I'll take the man-child. You and Dr. Genius can team up this time."</p>
<p>"Good. Have fun with him," I told Emily, ignoring the snickering coming from both of them as I lead Reid out of the laundromat. </p>
<p>"Meet back here in an hour!" she called after us. Morgan gave me a wink as I slipped outside with Reid, dissolving into laughter at the scowl I threw over my shoulder. As we headed down the road for the coffee shop, Reid held out his bag of pretzels.</p>
<p>"You can have the rest of mine. I'm not very hungry."</p>
<p>"Oh," I said, smiling up at him as I took the bag. "Thank you. I forgot to eat lunch before we left and I'm starving."</p>
<p>To my surprise a flicker of concern crossed his face. </p>
<p>"We can stop and grab something more substantial. It's important not to miss meals with type-1 diabetes," he insisted. When he saw the look on my face, he admitted, "I saw your bracelet, and I overhead Hotch talking with you about it during the last case."</p>
<p>There was that attentive, eidetic memory. Warmth bubbled in my chest at his concern for me, but I shook my head. </p>
<p>"I don't want to hold us up. These will be fine until we get back to the station."</p>
<p>"If you're sure," Reid relented.</p>
<p>"Besides, we have more important things to discuss,” I told him, peeking up to see the bewildered look he gave me. “You never told me what <i>paper towns</i> are. With cartographers.” </p>
<p>The genuine smile that overtook his face sent the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. <i>Jeeze</i> he was cute. He ducked his head and then stole a glance at me. </p>
<p>“You really want to know?”</p>
<p>“I do,” I promised, enjoying the excitement that lit up his eyes. That was all it took to get him rolling. </p>
<p>“Well, maps are often plagiarized. One of the most plagiarized items, in fact. So cartographers often put fake towns or fake streets on their maps so they can easily identify when <i>their</i> map has been copied. <i>In fact</i>, the town of Agloe, New York was invented by a few cartographers in the 1930’s. When they saw their town on another map from the Rand McNally company, they threatened to sue. However it turns out that someone had seen Agloe on a map and, since there was nothing there at the time, they built a general store there and made it officially a town. The town’s no longer there, but the general store is still standing to this day.” </p>
<p>As we reached the coffee shop, Reid stepped ahead and held the door for me. As I walked in, I turned to grin up at him. </p>
<p>“That’s honestly fascinating.”</p>
<p>He looked taken aback, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction, but just nodded enthusiastically. I tried to quell the butterflies rising up again, working to focus on the case instead of his dimpled smile. </p>
<p>“I certainly think so,” he agreed, leading us through the coffee shop looking for the bulletin board. We fell silent as we scanned the papers, and there it was The same yellow flier that Emily had shown us was hanging up, two slips of paper missing. Reid and I shared a look; we'd been right. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Penelope had been busy on our ride back to the station, tracking the number from the flier. By the time we made it back to the conference room, JJ and Hotch already had more for us to tackle. </p>
<p>"The guy’s website is forged, and he's using a fake name. Garcia did manage to find his intake forms for new patients," Hotch told us as we settled around the table. Instantly Reid was up, studying the sheet taped to the whiteboard. </p>
<p>"Look at this, you guys. He calls them phobias instead of anxiety disorders."</p>
<p>"What's the significance of that?" JJ asked us; man, my degree-in-progress was really coming in handy today!</p>
<p>"It means this guy's either an amateur, or he studied Psychology in the '80's," I explained. Hotch caught my eye and nodded to the board. </p>
<p>"Can you figure out which he is?"</p>
<p>A smile flicked onto my face and I nodded quickly, getting to my feet to accept the challenge. Reid stepped aside to let me study the paper. </p>
<p>"His questions are clinical. He's definitely a professional," I told the group after a couple of moments. "He knows what he's doing."</p>
<p>Hotch gave a nod of agreement as he elaborated,</p>
<p>"He's picked the perfect questions to single out his ideal victims. Answer <i>yes</i> to any of these and you're spared the torture."</p>
<p>Reid and I settled back around the table as JJ dialed up Penelope; it was time to figure out who this guy was. </p>
<p>"So, what do we know?" Hotch asked, and his eyes flicked back to me to start us off.</p>
<p>"I think he's definitely an actual psychiatrist, albeit one from an older knowledge-base," I said. "He's pulling in real knowledge and skills he would've gained while earning his degree."</p>
<p>"He's afraid of being alone, so he's most likely married," Emily said, giving me a nod of agreement to my point.</p>
<p>"He may have adopted children, since the tortures lack a sexual component," Reid added. "Especially if he wants a sense of community."</p>
<p>"Hey guys," Penelope said. "I'm crossing Portland doctors with adoptions. What else can you give me?"</p>
<p>The team went around the table, throwing out ideas as we could to help Penelope narrow her search, but even after a few rounds she let out a heavy sigh. </p>
<p>"Still too many. Can you give me an age range?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," I said eagerly, excited that I actually knew this. The others studied me as I explained, "he uses antiquated terms like '<i>phobias</i>' that haven’t been taught in a couple decades, so I’d think he's most likely in his 40's."</p>
<p>"Bingo!" she cheered. "Our clever little sugar-free gumdrop has hit the nail on the head. The creep of the moment award goes to 43-year-old Dr. Stanley Howard, psychiatrist."</p>
<p>Hotch actually smiled at me as Morgan gave me a literal pat on the back. </p>
<p>"Good job sunshine," he praised, throwing a wink at me as Penelope rattled off the UnSub’s information; we'd all been right about his past. </p>
<p>"Looks like he still has a lease on his old office building," she announced. “It was shut down due to renovations but, what do you know, they've been delayed."</p>
<p>"He's trying to keep up appearances," Hotch realized. "Where's the building?"</p>
<p>"427 Cedars Avenue. Not very far from the station."</p>
<p>"Alright. JJ and Prentiss, I want you two with the family. The rest of you are with me."</p>
<p>Again, Hotch saw the surprise on my face. As the others got up and gathered equipment, he pulled me aside. </p>
<p>"You were essential in finding this UnSub, and if you're up for it I’d like you to follow through with the arrest."</p>
<p>"I – of course, but are you sure?" I asked; Hotch gave a nod.</p>
<p>"You'll have to stay back since I can't give you a weapon. But like I said, there's only one way you can truly learn the role."</p>
<p>"I'm in," I told him; Hotch gave an agreeing nod, and we raced off after the others to grab our gear. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>"Make sure the straps are tight," Hotch told me, glancing in the rearview mirror as I slipped the FBI vest on over my head. With a nod, I settled it into place and secured the straps on my right. </p>
<p>"Like this?" I asked. Morgan turned in the front seat and studied as I pulled the straps on the left. </p>
<p>"A little tighter, we don't want any movement," he explained just as another set of hands reached over and tugged the straps secure. Reid met my eyes when I glanced up at him. He leaned back after securing the strap on the velcro and nodded at his work. </p>
<p>"Is that too tight?"</p>
<p>"Nope," I assured, testing the vest. Morgan gave a thumbs up and turned back around. "Thanks Reid."</p>
<p>He gave a quick nod just as Hotch pulled to a stop. I leaned forward to get a better look; the lot was totally empty. The four of us climbed out and slowly approached the chain-link fence enclosing the square of dirt.</p>
<p>"This is 427 Cedars Avenue," Reid confirmed, squinting at a sign on the fence. "So where's the office?"</p>
<p>"You ask a lot of good questions," I murmured, pausing at his side to turn and study the whole lot. Morgan and Hotch walked further in, just as frustrated and confused as we were; Hotch pulled out his phone. </p>
<p>"Prentiss. We're at the lot, the building's gone. Does his wife know anywhere else he might be?" he turned back for the SUV and motioned for us to follow him. We all hurried back and climbed in. "Great. Call me when you have an address."</p>
<p>Hotch handed his phone to Morgan and instructed, "Call Agent Calvert, we'll have him bring some officers for backup." As Morgan dialed the number, Hotch turned to Reid and I. "Morgan and I will be taking lead on this. Aria, since you're unarmed, I want you to stay with Reid and Agent Calvert."</p>
<p>"Got it," I promised. His stare hardened. </p>
<p>"Absolutely no going off on your own, or even too far from their sides. This could be dangerous and while I want you here for this, I don't want you getting hurt."</p>
<p>"I understand," I told him solemnly, giving an assuring nod. "I'll be safe."</p>
<p>As Hotch gave an accepting nod, Morgan spoke up a little more. </p>
<p>"Ay, Prentiss. Got it, okay. We're headed there now. Call Agent Calvert and give him the address too."</p>
<p>Morgan punched in the address on the SUV's map and we took off. Hotch was almost as fast as I was; we got there in two minutes. Calvert and his guys were just swarming into the building, and he spun to look at us as we hurried inside after them</p>
<p>"There're no tenants in this building," he said, pointing to a board with half a dozen names. “So why –“ </p>
<p>"Those are fake names,” Hotch dismissed. “It helps with his ruse."</p>
<p>"It says Goodman is on the fifth floor. That’s Dr. Howard’s fake name. Let's go," Morgan urged. I fell into step with Reid and Calvert and we raced up the stairs. Admittedly my calves were burning at the top, but the impressed look from Calvert pushed the ache aside. </p>
<p>"I almost didn't do that in loafers," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Impressive, Miss DiMaggio."</p>
<p>I quirked a smile at him and followed Hotch and Morgan down the hall. Reid's arm came across the front of me and he nudged me back behind him, tugging out his gun as we stopped at the door with <i>Dr. Goodman</i> on the front. </p>
<p>Reid, Hotch, and Morgan moved in first and I stuck with Calvert until Morgan called out "<i>it's clear</i>!" I immediately moved forward to Reid's side and followed him to Dr. Howard’s desk. Hotch came up beside us and I held up the logbook. </p>
<p>"Missy Cassell was the last patient to sign in," I told him. "Almost two hours ago."</p>
<p>"Alright," he murmured, and looked up to the group. "Let's split up. Calvert – you, Reid, and Aria take the west side. Aria –"</p>
<p>"Stay back, stay safe," I said quickly. He nodded. </p>
<p>"Morgan and I will take the east side."</p>
<p>"Let's go," Calvert said, and the three of us took off down the hall. The east side was full of the other empty offices, which didn't take very long to get through. Once Reid and Calvert had cleared the last of them, I caught their attention and pointed to a map hanging up by the stairs. </p>
<p>"Looks like there's a parking garage, on the north end. Should we –"</p>
<p>"Yeah," Reid said, nodding to the stairs. "Let's go."</p>
<p>We raced off and flew down the stairs, high-tailing it for the garage. Just like the office buildings, though, neither Missy nor Dr. Howard were here. Their cars were side by side, but everything – even the trunks – were empty.</p>
<p>"Now what?" I huffed, just as Reid put a hand to his earpiece. </p>
<p>"Right, got it Morgan." He tugged out his phone and glanced at Calvert and I. "They’ve got him. He's going to the roof."</p>
<p>Calvert and I exchanged looks of alarm as Reid dialed 911, rattling off the address. </p>
<p>"You're the psychiatrist," Calvert said to me as we fell into step with Reid, heading for the east side parking lot. "How's this gonna end?"</p>
<p>"If I were a betting woman, I wouldn't like these odds," I murmured, stomach churning with worry. A deranged man trapped on a roof by the FBI would only have so many options, and going peacefully wouldn't be one of them. </p>
<p>"I think Missy Cassell is still here,” Reid started as we came back into the building. “One or both of their cars would be gone if he’d taken her somewhere else.”</p>
<p>“I saw his journal upstairs, on his desk,” I said quickly. “I bet we can find her fear and figure out where he’d have her.”</p>
<p>“You two go find the journal, I’ll meet up with Morgan and Hotchner,” Calvert said, heading down a side hall that led to the west side. Reid and I took off the opposite direction. He led us skillfully through the floor to the stairs and we raced up them again. Who needed a gym membership when you were with the FBI?</p>
<p>Admittedly out of breath and with much more ache in my legs this time, I was grateful to pause at Dr. Howard’s desk as Reid skimmed the journal. I watched in fascination as he slid his finger down the pages. Was this his 20,000 words a minute? He’d read the whole thing before I’d even caught my breath!</p>
<p>“I’ve got it,” he said quickly, and took off without warning. Yeesh, this guy! I huffed, took a breath, and raced after him. Thankfully, <i>down</i> was a lot easier than <i>up</i>. We hit the ground floor and raced again through the maze of hallways. <i>Bet he memorized that map we saw earlier</i>, I realized as we reached the emergency exit. No wonder Penelope called him boy genius.</p>
<p>We skid to a stop at an emergency escape door and Reid rushed out first; he came to such a sudden stop I bumped into him. Resting a hand on his arm in apology, I went to move around him but he caught my arm to pull me to a stop. Dr. Howard was lying on the ground, blood pooling from his head. </p>
<p>He'd jumped. </p>
<p>I sucked in a breath and put a hand over my mouth, immediately looking away as my heart twisted. He had killed dozens of people. He was a bad guy, I knew that, but seeing him dead so vividly in front of me... </p>
<p>"We..." Reid turned away as well and – hand still on my arm – tugged us back towards Hotch and Morgan as he thankfully slipped between me and the sight I was trying to avoid. "We went through his journal and I found his entry about Missy."</p>
<p>"What did it say?" Hotch asked as his eyes flicked to me in concern. I tried not to look as affected as I was. </p>
<p>"She was going on a cave diving trip next month. She wasn't afraid of the water, but of the walls crumbling down around her."</p>
<p>"So what's she afraid of?" Calvert asked. The answer hit me and I looked up at the others suddenly. </p>
<p>"Being buried alive." Reid nodded in agreement; Hotch and Morgan shared looks and I added, "both of their cars were in the parking garage. We think they're still here."</p>
<p>"Do we know if there's a basement in this building?" Hotch asked, and Reid nodded instantly. Of course he knew. </p>
<p>"I saw it on the map," he confirmed; Calvert motioned for us to go. </p>
<p>"I'll stay here. Fire Department are probably close."</p>
<p>Thank god we didn't need to stand around Dr. Howard any longer. I moved as soon as Reid did, practically glued to him as we rushed back inside. As we wove through the halls again, a hand brushed my arm. </p>
<p>"Are you alright?" Hotch asked softly; I gave him a quick smile and nodded. </p>
<p>"Yeah, I’m good. It's part of the job, right?"</p>
<p>He looked as though he wanted to say more but Reid had found the entrance to the basement. He ducked in the hall, and then leaned back out to wave us over. </p>
<p>"Down here. It's dark and probably uneven. Stay close."</p>
<p>Taking his advice to heart, I skirted forward and hooked a hand on to the loop of his vest; Hotch came up beside me and drew his gun, his arm pressed to mine for guidance. I heard Morgan do the same behind me.</p>
<p>As we rounded the corner of the hall we almost tripped over the dozens of bags of dirt that had been tossed around. My stomach sunk when I saw the fresh dirt patted down in the corner.</p>
<p>"Hotch," I managed, grabbing his arm and turning him the right direction. The four of us surged forward and dropped to our knees, immediately beginning to scoop the dirt out around us. </p>
<p>"She's in the middle," Morgan realized as we unearthed a hand. "Sunshine, can you –"</p>
<p>I was way ahead of him. I moved around to the other side and edged myself out onto the dirt. Being the smallest of the team, I hopefully wouldn't add too much pressure onto the dirt around Missy. For once my height limitations were exactly what I needed.</p>
<p>We all dug frantically until my fingers brushed the top of her head. </p>
<p>"Grab her arms," Hotch ordered; Reid and Morgan took hold as Hotch and I continued to shove the dirt aside. "Okay, try and pull –"</p>
<p>"Wait, wait," I said quickly. "She – she's stuck. I've gotta..."</p>
<p>I shifted back a bit and shoved both my arms in the dirt, moving them as much as I could to disturb what was packed firmly around her body. </p>
<p>"There, there! She's comin' free. Keep goin'," Morgan encouraged; I pushed down farther to relieve the pressure around her waist, sinking in a bit myself. It helped though, having more dirt slide around my legs and off of Missy's body. Morgan and Hotch leaned in and pulled her other arm free, then began to slowly pull her up farther. </p>
<p>Reid took both of her hands to help leverage her weight and I frantically pawed the dirt around her to loosen her further. Her head and shoulders were free! The guys readjusted their grip underneath her arms now and stood slowly, allowing me to unbury her waist and legs so they didn't hurt her. </p>
<p>Finally, they pulled her feet out and laid her out on the floor. My arms were jello and I slumped in the dirt, needing to catch my breath before I could work on getting myself out. Arms slid under my own and, with surprising strength, Reid pulled me out of the dirt and set me on the ledge of the concrete hole. </p>
<p>With a nod of thanks, I flipped to my knees and shuffled to Missy's side. Breathing now, she began to panic. Morgan and Hotch held her steady and I let my instincts take over. I brushed the dirt off her cheeks and mouth quickly so she could breathe easier, then cleared her eyes. She opened them and looked up at me in fear. </p>
<p>"Hi, Missy, it's alright," I said quickly, continuing to wipe her face off. "We're here to help. You're alright. You're gonna be alright."</p>
<p>Her shaking hand pulled free of Hotch's grip and her dirt-covered fingers wrapped weakly over the hand I had on her face. Though she didn't speak, the gratitude in her stare burned through me and pushed away the rest of the turmoil of the case. </p>
<p>We'd saved a life.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Someone settled in the seat across from me. Blinking the exhaustion from my eyes, I turned to stare at Hotch. He looked concerned when he took in my expression. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”</p>
<p>“No, I uh...” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, tucking my legs a little tighter underneath me. “I can’t sleep.”</p>
<p>Hotch studied me for a moment and his eyes softened in understanding. </p>
<p>“Dr. Howard.”</p>
<p>The image of his lifeless body, the bloody pavement – I nodded and turned to look out the window of the plane. My fingers tangled in the hem of my skirt and I worried the fabric as I said softly, </p>
<p>“It’s not the body. I mean, it was a shock. But I’ve looked at crime scene photos, I’ve seen death... It’s just – his family, you know? They had no idea. He had a wife and a daughter. And maybe if he hadn’t been abused, if he’d gotten a fair crack at life and not had such a crappy hand dealt to him right off the bat...”</p>
<p>“There are a lot of what-ifs when it comes to the life of an UnSub,” Hotch began; I blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “We can’t speculate on them. Maybe he might not have had these urges, had he not been abused. But deep down, I know you understand there was a lot more within Dr. Howard that drove him to this point. In the end, it was his own choices that led him down this path. What matters is we saved the victim, the one who didn't make the choice to end up where she did."</p>
<p>Hastily I wiped the tears off my cheeks and nodded as I cleared my throat. </p>
<p>"Saving Missy... it helps. It really does. And Dr. Howard... I know I shouldn't feel this way –"</p>
<p>"You absolutely should," Hotch disagreed; surprised, I looked over at him in question. "You're a genuinely empathetic person. You find the good in everyone you come across and you care about them, no matter how wicked. It'll get to you every now and then, and it's okay. I don't want you bottling any of it up. I don't want you losing your natural ability to see kindness in others."</p>
<p>A slow, genuine smile spread over my lips and his words settled some of the ache in my chest. At least knowing Hotch didn't think I was crazy made me feel better. </p>
<p>"Thank you," I said to him. He gave me a small nod and turned to look out his own window. </p>
<p>"Try and get some sleep. It's been a long day."</p>
<p>We fell quiet but I didn't turn from him. I studied the stone-faced man across from me. Though he looked as solemn as he usually did, there was a hint of something else in his features. A deep sadness, weighing on his shoulders and pulling down his lips just a bit more than normal. And maybe it wasn't my place, but... </p>
<p>"Hotch?" I asked softly; he glanced at me and lifted a brow. "Are <i>you</i> okay?"</p>
<p>He turned to face me fully now, brows drawing together as his face tilted in question just a bit. I sat up a bit and studied him a little more now. </p>
<p>He was trying to relax himself so he didn't give anything away through body language. I knew he was a pretty emotionally-reserved person, someone who didn't like to show when something was wrong. I didn't care, though.</p>
<p>"Normally we don't profile each other," Hotch began. </p>
<p>I gave him a small smile and said softly, </p>
<p>"I'm not profiling. I'm being a friend, and as a friend I can see you're hurting. You talked me through my rough thoughts and I want to do the same."</p>
<p>Hotch was quiet for several moments, his gaze unwavering. His lips drew together a bit more and he started, </p>
<p>"You should really try and sleep –"</p>
<p>"And if I'm wrong, if there's nothing bothering you, then I'll shut my eyes and leave you alone," I promised. Hotch went quiet again and I pressed softly, "<i>am</i> I wrong?"</p>
<p>To my surprise, a small smile turned up a corner of his mouth, and he dropped his eyes to his lap. But when he looked back up at me, there was a sadness so powerful in his gaze that my breath caught in my throat. </p>
<p>"My wife... Haley. She left," he said softly, pain in his voice. "And I don't know if she's coming back."</p>
<p>The weight of his anguish settled onto my shoulders, and my heart twisted for him. I'd heard him talking about his wife to Morgan and JJ; even just in passing I could tell how much he loved her. </p>
<p>Hotch was right – I had an uncontrolled empathetic heart, <i>and</i> a psychiatrist's instincts to boot. I untucked my legs and stood up, crossing to curl into the seat next to him so he knew he wasn't alone. It was small, but I knew that having someone at his side would help him open up more, and not bury his feelings like I could tell he was used to doing.</p>
<p>"I'm really sorry," I murmured; he gave a nod and cleared his throat, looking out the window. "Can you tell me about Haley?"</p>
<p>After another few moments, Hotch turned back and shifted to face me. He was quiet and short at first with his answers, but as the flight went on, he told me more and more about his wife and his son Jack, about his relationship with her, about coming home after Milwaukee and finding the house empty... </p>
<p>We talked through the night, well until the sun came up and we began our descent in Quantico. We let our talk die out as the others began to wake, leaving our heart-to-heart in the shadows of the early morning. </p>
<p>As we grabbed our bags and made our way off the plane, Hotch lingered at the bottom of the stairs. We fell into step with one another behind the rest of the team, and he glanced down at me. </p>
<p>"Thank you, for all you did on this case," he said pointedly; I smiled to myself at his veiled hint to our conversation. </p>
<p>"I'm happy to help however I can," I told him honestly. </p>
<p>He gave an appreciative nod and turned away, at the end of touchy-feely rope. I cleared my throat and switched gears. </p>
<p>"So, I've been asking the team about getting certified for a weapon." Hotch raised his brows and I threw a teasing smile up at my fearless leader. "Apparently, they all recommend Agent Aaron "<i>two-pistols</i>" Hotchner as my trainer."</p>
<p>Hotch let out the first bark of laughter I’d ever heard from him. He turned his grin down at me and shook his head. </p>
<p>"Well, if the team's spoken..."</p>
<p>"Do you really have an <i>ankle holster</i>?" I asked, laughing along with him. </p>
<p>"Don't be ridiculous," he began, coming to a stop. I turned to watch as he tugged both pant legs up. "I have <i>two</i> ankle holsters."</p>
<p>"You are the definition of over-prepared," I giggled, shaking my head. He dropped his pant legs and we began walking again. </p>
<p>"What, Hotch showin' you how crazy he is?" Morgan laughed. The rest of the team had waited for us at the SUV. We all piled inside, and I found myself in the middle row of seats next to Emily, with Reid and JJ in back and Hotch and Morgan up front. </p>
<p>"He's proving his qualifications as my new weapons instructor," I told the others. Reid leaned over the seat and gave a wry smile. </p>
<p>"Those extra pistols come in handy," he pointed out. "Did anyone tell you about Phillip Dowd?"</p>
<p>The whole team made noises of remembrance as I shook my head. Morgan turned in the front seat, grin on his face, fanning his hands out for emphasis as he started dramatically, </p>
<p>"So get this. It's 2005, pretty boy here has <i>short hair</i> if you can believe it, Hotch's got these weird bangs –"</p>
<p>"They weren't bangs," he argued immediately; I could see him fighting to hide a smile. "At least tell it right."</p>
<p>As the team took turns telling the story - more joking around and teasing each other than anything else - the last of my heartache from the case dissolved with their laughter. </p>
<p><i>I can do this</i>, I told myself, getting lost in the drive back and pushing aside the things we'd seen not even ten hours ago. <i>I'm gonna do this</i>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Again, thank you all for the love you've been showing myself and the story! I'm so excited you guys are liking it. I've spent a lot of time building up Aria's character and it makes me so happy you guys are enjoying her!</p>
<p>If you've got a moment and you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!</p>
<p>If you haven't already, you can visit recollins.tumblr.com. I post some extra stuff there for the story every now and then, and will be adding more as we go further through the story!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Pretty Boy & the Gremlin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x04 - Children of the Dark</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hotch caught my eye as we made our way across the parking garage, watching as I rubbed my right shoulder tenderly. He hit the button for the elevator and as we stepped in, I slumped against the back wall.  </p><p>“Sore?” he mused, pressing the button for our floor and then glancing down at me. I let out a groan and begrudgingly shoved back upright, still massaging my tender arm.  </p><p>“I’m built for yoga and minimal impact aerobics. Between the fitness tests and a shotgun that insists on a ridiculous back coil, sore doesn’t begin to cover it.”</p><p>“You’ll be thankful for the skills when you need them in the field,” he pointed out diplomatically; I threw him a scowl as I snarked,</p><p>“Have you ever even <i>used</i> a shotgun on a case?!”</p><p>He pressed his lips together for a moment before saying decisively, </p><p>“I’m pretty sure Gideon has.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure you’re lying.”</p><p>Hotch actually snorted and I gave him a wry smile as we fell into our comfortable compatible silence.</p><p>Three days a week, for the last couple of months, Hotch and I had been meeting up at the training facility to knock out as many classes and sessions we could manage in four hours. The other days, between my college work and other cases, I’d begun taking profiling classes. Even now, two months into my internship, I was still surprised at how much Gideon had done for me. </p><p>Normally, I’d have to go through the official FBI academy before I could even dream about this internship. Somehow he’d nixed all those requirements, and all that left me with was trying to get on the same level as the team. </p><p>It’d been pretty manageable the first couple of weeks, with homework being minimal and the beginners training classes simple enough. Now that school was ramping up and the training was getting more intense, I had to admit it was all coming together to collectively kick my ass.</p><p>Getting my hours in for my weapons training had been easy at first. The pistol was intuitive and with Hotch as my instructor I was already becoming a pretty good shot. As for the shotgun, though… don’t get me started on that. </p><p>Fitness hadn’t been a problem initially either. Sure, I was a bit chubby, but I was still in decent shape. Wearing heels every day kept my legs toned and I’d been able to keep up with Hotch and his crazy running routines that took us all over Quantico.  </p><p>Honestly though, despite it all I really looked forward to my training days. The time I spent with Hotch usually ended up doubling as makeshift therapy sessions for the two of us. Sometimes we’d complain about homework and paperwork, other days we’d take turns demolishing paper targets or beating punching bags until the pent-up frustrations of life settled back down to manageable levels. It kept my mind off the stress of trying to earn a degree <i>and</i> a place as a profiler, but more importantly it kept <i>his</i> mind off the turmoil with Haley</p><p>Hotch seemed to sense that my fatigue was hanging heavier on me than usual (not that I was trying hard to hide it) and as we made our way out of the elevator he caught my arm and tugged me back. </p><p>“Despite the questionable necessity of some of the courses,” he began, hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “you’re doing very well so far, Aria. You should be proud of yourself.”</p><p>A smile came over my face; I was learning just how rare it was for our steel-souled leader to show a softer side.</p><p>“Thanks, boss man. Once I get the feeling back in my shoulder I’ll be good to go for…” I paused and frowned. “What is this? Round twelve?”</p><p>“This was thirteen,” he corrected, dropping his hold as we made our way into the bullpen. “You’re nearly halfway done with the weapons training, at least.”</p><p>“Oh, you are? Already?” Penelope exclaimed as she bustled up to us. She was grinning ear-to-ear, looking ready to rope us both into hugs. “I’m so proud of you!”</p><p>“Thanks Pen,” I laughed, stepping up to allow myself to be pulled into her bone-crushing hold so Hotch could side-step us and make a clean getaway. Despite opening up about the troubles at home, he was still as warm and cuddly as a desert cactus. </p><p>“I’ll see you two in the conference room in ten minutes,” he called, nodding as I gave him the best parting wave I could. </p><p>“You’re doing so well!” Penelope gushed, finally letting me go, though still beaming at me. “Really. I could never do it. Running, and – and climbing, and <i>shooting</i>… nu-uh. But you! You’re just swooping in here like wonder woman, kicking butt and taking names!”</p><p>“I know you ain’t talkin’ about lil miss sunshine,” Morgan snorted, coming up behind me and ruffling my hair. I made a noise of indignation and swatted his hands off, turning to scowl up at him. </p><p>“You mess up my hair <i>and</i> you insult me?” He smirked in response and I scoffed, smoothing down my curls. “No coffee for you today.”</p><p>His mouth dropped open to argue and I spun on my heel, stalking off towards the break area. </p><p>“I – hang on a minute. Ay!” he called after me; I kept going. “Garcia! Tell your gremlin to get her butt back here!” </p><p>Penelope snorted, earrings jingling as she shook her head. </p><p>“Uh, no way. She’s already spoken, my precious chocolate bear. You angered the honey badger and now you live with the consequences.” </p><p>I listened to them argue together all the way to the conference room. As I gathered the drinks, I felt someone pause at my shoulder. A glance to the left had me met with Reid’s timid smile. Even with all the talking we did, he was still hesitant around me. Maybe it’s because I was still new, or maybe I was just hard to talk to… I’d definitely heard that before. The term ‘<i>resting Aria face</i>’ was a favorite of Aubrianna’s. </p><p>Either way, I’d been trying to get close with the mysterious Dr. Reid. He was a wealth of knowledge for all things profiling – <i>and</i> he’d helped me with my algebra a couple times – so it was smart of me to try and talk to him as much as possible. </p><p>Because, y’know, he was crazy smart and helpful. Not ‘cause he was super cute, or sweet, or genuinely friendly, or, like, <i>really</i> adorable. Ahem. I shoved those thoughts out of my head and gave him a smile back. </p><p>“Mornin’. In the mood for green tea or the classic herbal?”</p><p>“You don’t need to make my drink,” he began, sounding almost guilty as hands untangled from the strap of his bag to grab his own cup off the shelf. “You’re not just a barista.”</p><p>"I know," I shrugged, smiling more to myself this time as I reached out and gently tugged the cup out of his hold. "I want to be helpful. I can't profile like you guys can, I can't do interviews, and I can't even do much in the field yet. Making your lives a little easier so you can focus on the case is the least I can do." </p><p>Reid was quiet for a moment, and as he watched me pour the hot water, a genuine smile quirked up the corners of his lips. I turned back to him, holding up the two boxes of tea I knew he was most fond of. </p><p>“So what’ll it be, Dr. Reid?” </p><p>“Dealer’s choice,” he suggested. I put my back to him and picked the herbal, dunking it into his up and popping the lid on before turning and handing it back. “This is very thoughtful of you. Thank you.” </p><p>Okay, I was <i>really</i> glad he’d dropped his eyes to his shoes, because my face was definitely a couple shades of pink. His genuine compliment warmed me through better than any cup of tea could. When he looked back up, ready to say something else, Morgan poked his head out of the conference room. </p><p>“Ay! Pretty boy, gremlin! Let’s get goin’!”</p><p>I threw him my best scowl as I gathered the drinks onto the tray, letting Reid lead us up the ramp.</p><p>“Gremlin?” he asked me as he settled at the table. I rolled my eyes as I began to pass out the cups, pointedly skipping past Morgan as I made my rounds.</p><p>“Some people have no respect for their coworkers and don’t enjoy the consequences,” I <i>tsk</i>’d. </p><p>“True dat,” Penelope said from her seat next to him. He scowled at her as I giggled and, reluctantly, sat Morgan’s drink down and I took the seat between him and Reid </p><p>“Aw, you <i>do</i> care about me,” he teased; I scoffed and shook my head. </p><p>“This is mercy for the rest of us than you. You’re moody without caffeine and I’m not sitting on a plane with Mr. Grumpy Gills.”</p><p>“Thank you,” JJ and Emily chorused. Morgan scowled at them as JJ got up to start the case.</p><p>"The Halbert family…" I knew better than to look at the screen. <i>Family</i> meant kids, and I didn't want to start my day with those pictures. "They were murdered in their home last night in the Denver suburb of Cherry Creek."</p><p>My head snapped up and Hotch caught the movement, meeting my eyes from across the table. </p><p>"That's near where you grew up," he noted, and I nodded quickly. </p><p>"It's about half an hour from Arvada, which is where I was. Where my family is now." The team all turned their attention to me now; I knew those looks. They wanted more information. "Cherry Creek is a higher-end neighborhood. Lots of fancy homes, well-to-do families, expensive luxuries... stuff you don't see in a lot of the other nearby cities."</p><p>"In all the home invasions so far, cash and jewelry have been the main targets. It's hard to know if that's the motive, or if it's just a byproduct of the murders," Morgan sighed. "This is why home invasions are so hard to profile. Multiple motives."</p><p>I nodded quickly and flipped open my notebook to jot down what he'd just said as Reid added,</p><p>"National statistics show an uptick in home invasions over the last few years, 18% alone in Colorado."</p><p>"You know it's bad if they're inviting us back," Hotch agreed. I made a face in agreement as nodded as JJ asked, </p><p>"...Back?"</p><p>"The FBI's been a sore spot with local law enforcement in Colorado – <i>especially</i> around Denver – because of the Jon Benet Ramsey case," I started; both Hotch and Reid looked surprised I knew this and I shrugged. "My uncle's been the Sheriff in Jefferson County for decades, even back when that happened, and Boulder's just about half an hour from there. He got called to help the case."</p><p>"Well, I talked to a Lieutenant Nellis in Cherry Creek, and trust me, they definitely want our help," JJ promised. </p><p>"They <i>need</i> it," Emily agreed, and the team dove into the details of the murder. As much as I tried to focus, I found myself going back to the thoughts I'd been trying to ignore. </p><p>I'd be going back to Colorado. Heck, I was gonna be thirty minutes <i>tops</i> from my family for the first time in almost three years. My mom and dad didn't even know I'd left Seattle, let alone gotten an internship with the FBI. </p><p>Did I bother trying to go see them? I wanted to see my sister, but her house was only three down from our parent's. Just the thought of having to fess up to everything that had happened put a knot of anxiety in my stomach. </p><p>They weren't supportive of my unending stream of disappointing life choices, as dad had fondly told me after I informed him what I wanted to study. Mom had simply dissolved into a stream of woeful, dramatic Italian, as helpful as she ever was…</p><p>"You with us, sunshine?" Morgan asked, nudging my arm. I blinked and looked up; everyone was getting up, probably ready to head to the jet. </p><p>"Oh, uh - yeah. Yeah. Sorry," I said quickly, scooping up my things and following the others out of the conference room. </p><p>--</p><p>My tea had been stirred within an inch of its life and I hadn't even taken a sip yet. My eyes were fixed out the window of the plane as we made our way to Colorado. My phone sat heavily on my lap; twice I’d tried to call Aubrianna, and I hung up before the first ring. I dropped my head back against the seat and let out a heavy sigh. </p><p>Briefing complete and tasks assigned, we'd all split up to rest a bit before we hit the ground running. Hotch, Morgan, and JJ were lost in a discussion - more of a debate, at this point – over the Jon Benet Ramsey case. Emily was snoring softly from the couch, deep in a nap. I’d thought Reid was doing the same thing until he settled into the seat across from me. </p><p>“During the middle ages, most Western maps put East at the top instead of North,” one corner of his mouth quirking up as he spoke. “In Latin, the word for East is <i>oriens</i>, so to hold the map correctly you had to “orient” it. That’s where the word “orientation” comes from.”</p><p>Despite the turmoil within me, a smile crept over my face. He knew I liked the random tidbits he gave me and his smile grew when he saw my own do the same. Setting my cup on the table, I turned to face him and tipped my head to the side as I asked,  </p><p>“Why did they put east at the top in the first place?”</p><p>His eyes flashed with excitement and he leaned forward, holding his hands out to demonstrate as he talked. </p><p>“Well since the sun rises in the east, this direction made more sense for cartographers of that time. North and west were poor choices because the sun sets in the west and it gets darker as they would move towards the north,” he explained, hands flying every direction. “On that same idea, maps from the early Muslim world are oriented to the south because most of these Muslim kingdoms were to the north of Mecca and chose to look “up” to their religious site.”</p><p>I gave him an understanding nod as I <i>hmm</i>’d and then asked,</p><p>“And if I’m right, we have North at the top now because of compasses, since they follow the magnetic north, which usually points up?”</p><p>“You are,” he confirmed, smiling wide enough to give me a toothy grin that left the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He must’ve caught the look on my face because he tilted <i>his</i> head and deduced, “Jude taught you that.”</p><p>My smile flickered a bit and my eyes shot back to the window for a moment as I gave a quick nod. I wanted to say something, keep things upbeat, but the turmoil and anxiety were rising up again and making it hard to breath, let alone think. </p><p>“Is that why you’re nervous about going to Denver? It brings back the memories?” he pressed; I sighed and gave a small nod as I turned my gaze back to him. His eyes were gentle and the smile had dimmed to a soft, comforting glow that put me at ease just a bit. </p><p>“Part of it, yeah,” I murmured, picking up my phone and beginning to turn it over in my hands as I spoke. “It’s more of my living family, to be honest.”</p><p>Reid sat back and folding his hands in his lap, inviting me to keep going as he gave me his full attention. I kicked my heels off and tugged my legs up onto the seat as I explained, </p><p>“Well, like I said, Uncle Randy is the Sheriff of Jefferson county, which is just outside Denver County. That’s where Cherry Creek is, and I know with a case like this he’ll be involved since Denver County is so small. I... I haven’t talked to my parents in like, three years. They don’t even know I joined the FBI, let alone moved to Virginia. When my uncle sees me, he’ll go straight to my dad. Dealing with all of that is more daunting than this case, honestly.”</p><p>Reid nodded in understanding as I fell quiet, and he shifted to sit up a bit more, leaning closer as he did so. </p><p>“If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you talked to your parents in so long?”</p><p>I knew the question was coming, but it was still hard to get myself started; I rarely talked about my brother. Thankfully, Reid was patient and waited until I finally found the words I needed. </p><p>“My parents and I have never seen eye-to-eye. My dad always said I was born just to be a thorn in their sides. I mean, things were always rocky between us, but Jude’s death just… I was almost sixteen, and he was my world. We were both the black sheep in our family. My sister Aubrianna was a good kid, listened to our parents… I was the opposite, and Jude was even worse than me in their eyes. He always encouraged me to follow my passions just like he did, even though mom and dad shot me down at every turn.”</p><p>“They didn’t support you?” he asked in surprise, tilting his head in question. “I’m sorry. That had to be difficult to grow up with.”</p><p>“It was, and that’s why Jude and I were so close. He was going through it too. Dad wanted him to get into politics like he was, and mom wanted Aubri and I getting into business so we could rise up the ranks of her company and take over for her one day.” I sighed and shook my head as the bitter memories of my childhood swam through my mind. “Aubri listened, but Jude and I... we had our own plans.”</p><p>“What did he want to do?”</p><p>“He wanted to be a middle school English teacher,” I said with a small smile; I could just <i>see</i> Jude’s face when he talked about his future with me. “He adored the skies and stars, but English was his true love. He always said that sixth grade was where the passion in writing became cemented, and he wanted to be that teacher that helped his students adore poems and stories the way he had. He just... he had such a dedication for art, creativity... for being your own person, it was just infectious. And it was everything my dad was against. When Jude died, my dad turned his death into ‘life lessons’ whenever he could.”</p><p>“Instead of letting you mourn your brother, he used him as a warning against you.” Reid was already picking up on the deep-seated resentment I was sitting on. Not that I did much to hide it when I started talking about my family. </p><p>“Big time,” I confirmed, and added a little softer, “Jude never... he hid his addiction, but I knew he was drinking. Nights were our time to spend together and so when he’d go out with his friends I’d try to wait up for him. And sometimes he wouldn’t come back until six in the morning, stumbling in drunk off his ass. You know, so potent you could smell the alcohol on him before he entered the room.”</p><p>Reid nodded in understanding as I paused and cleared my throat, focusing on pushing back the pain in my chest. He waited patiently for me to pick up again. </p><p>“And you know, he was never mean. He was never aggressive or loud or violent when he got drunk. He just.... he had this deep, aching sadness, you know? He was so warm and exuberant when he was sober during the day, and usually the evenings before he left. I mean, unless our parents tore him down. He was the kindest, most loving person you could ever hope to meet. When he drank, he let the walls down that he put up every day and showed who he truly was. I was the only one that got to see that side of him.”</p><p>“Did you know why he drank? Why he was sad?” he asked gently; I knew he had his profiler hat on but... I really didn’t care. It was nice, talking to someone that genuinely cared what I had to say. Talking about Jude to someone who didn’t know him, didn’t have any opinions about my brother, it was a comfort I didn’t know I’d been missing. </p><p>“He let it slip a few times, when he was <i>really</i> sauced, that our parents hated him. Not just that they were disappointed, or disapproving even. That they truly <i>hated</i> him. He was gay,” I said, admitting to Reid something I hadn’t told to anyone else. “I’m pretty sure my parents knew because they went out of their way to make it clear they didn’t support ‘<i>that lifestyle</i>’. They’re so hypocritical and close-minded. Even though my dad acts like he supports the LGBTQA community, it’s just a front so he’d get elected for another term,” I said in disgust, shaking my head and feeling more anger rise within me. </p><p>“You blame them for your brother’s death,” he finally realized. I gave a sad, aching smile and a simple nod. </p><p>“I mean, they didn’t force him to drink as much as he did. They didn’t put him in his car and tell him to race down the freeway. They just gave him the ammo over all the years of hating him, and then took it one step further to use the death they caused for their own benefit.”</p><p>Reid nodded in understanding, but a questioning look came over his face; I raised a brow.</p><p>“I understand why <i>you</i> resent them, but what caused the rift on their end?”</p><p>For a moment I fell quiet, thinking about what I could say. The truth was… well, I couldn’t go into that now. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have <i>ever</i> again, let alone with a guy I had only known for six weeks. But, I could give him the watered-down version.</p><p>“Well... It was just a bunch of things coming together and boiling over at once, honestly. After Jude died I just didn’t really care about what they wanted out of me. My brother had taught me to do my own thing and be my own person, and I wanted to follow through with that. And my parents, they were always using Jude against me. It was always <i>‘see what happened to Jude when he didn’t listen’</i> and <i>‘if you keep that up you’ll be no better off than your brother’</i>.”</p><p>“They really said that to you?” he asked in disbelief; when I nodded, his face fell in sympathy. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”</p><p>I gave him a thankful smile and let out a heavy sigh.</p><p>“I was already hurting from the loss of my best friend. My hero. And to have him turned into a threat... the more they tried to hold me back and control me, the more I rebelled.” </p><p>“<i>You</i> rebelled?” he asked me, looking genuinely surprised. I giggled at the look on his face and gave a nod. </p><p>“Oh yeah. I mean, I couldn’t go full-on wild-child, with my Uncle being Sheriff and all that, but I did enough.” I hesitated for a moment, picking my words carefully before I said, “my boyfriend at the time was a few years older than me, Aubri’s age. My parents <i>loved</i> him but he was just… well, he definitely helped me rebel. Took me to parties, bought me alcohol, my first cigarettes, my first joint… he was an asshole, but he was my secret weapon against my parents. Dad would tell me I couldn’t do something because <i>he</i> was in charge and his word was law. So I’d go out and do something crazy with my boyfriend just to one-up him. Got my tongue pierced, even. <i>That</i> pissed him off.”</p><p>“You have – <i>what</i>?” he gaped; I giggled again and glanced back to make sure the others weren’t watching, then turned to Reid. </p><p>With a grin, I stuck my tongue out and braced the piercing against my teeth so he could see the clear, flat bar I had in. The piercing was far enough back – on purpose – that unless someone was <i>really</i> looking for it they wouldn’t catch it. Clearly, Reid hadn’t before. His brows went up to his hairline and I actually laughed as I pulled my tongue back. He blinked several times and asked in a voice a few octaves higher,</p><p>“You have your <i>tongue pierced</i>!?”</p><p>“Yep,” I assured, and added, “I have my belly button pierced too. But that one’s just between you and me. To be honest, the only other person who knows about it is Aubrianna. I never even showed my parents. My ex took me to some sketchy piercing place over spring break. The guy said he needed info about me for the records and I was so eager to get the piercing I just gave him Aubri’s name with my parent’s number. My ex signed off as my guardian. The guy who did the piercing seemed pretty iffy about it and once it was done we made it pretty obvious we were lying. He called my parents and Aubrianna got busted.”</p><p>“How did she get in trouble for that?”</p><p>I snorted and shook my head. </p><p>“She’d secretly gotten <i>her</i> belly button pierced too without them knowing. She was almost twenty and they still flipped out over it. Once she pieced together how they’d found out she kept quiet. I think she was planning on using it against me but she never really got the chance.”</p><p>“Why not?” he pressed, picking up on the tone of my voice. He was a profiler, all right...</p><p>“She let it slip she was pregnant at her high school graduation party. <i>That</i> took up a lot of my parents’ anger and disappointment – with her not going to college, taking a job in real estate instead of my mom’s company – so I flew under the radar. Neither of us mentioned my belly button piercing because they left me alone for a long time after that.”</p><p>“Until you graduated,” Reid guessed; I gave him a smile and he quirked one back at me. </p><p>“I was a few months shy of getting my diploma and I broke up with my ex,” I explained. He frowned, confused again, so I explained, “when I said they <i>loved</i> the guy, I wasn’t exaggerating. They had no idea he enforced – hell, practically <i>created</i> – most of my rebellious habits. He was a family friend – I think our dads still golf together even – and they were already calling him their son-in-law. Had a venue picked out for our wedding and everything. This guy could punch my dad in the face and he’d thank him for the broken nose, you know?”</p><p>Reid made a noise of understanding as I shook my head, looking away to compose myself. Connor was… well, I couldn’t get into it now. The scars – both the ones I’d locked away and the ones I hid every day – still felt as fresh as the day I’d gotten them. </p><p>“They were already up-in-arms with my newfound relationship status, and then I just sprung it on them that I’d been accepted to the University of Washington to major in Psychology. They lost their minds. I guess they’d just assumed up to that point – since I’d been so quiet and ‘well-behaved’ – that I was just falling in line with what they wanted.”</p><p>“They weren’t proud you were accepted to college in general?” he questioned; I shook my head. </p><p>“My dad had a list of colleges he wanted us all to attend, and that wasn’t one of them. And they never really believed that Psychology is something worth studying. It’s a pseudoscience to them. They were furious and made my life even more of a living hell than before. The last straw, though, was my dad’s re-election campaign.”</p><p>Reid studied my face and I gave him a tight, pained smile. It only took him moments to piece together before his own fell in realization. “He ran a campaign against drunk driving.</p><p>“Yep,” I said bitterly. “He even cried talking about losing my brother, which he’d never done before. Said all this shit about how he <i>lost a piece of himself that day too</i>. He showed all these clips of my brother set to <i>Arms of an Angel</i>. Hugged my mom and cried on stage, the whole nine yards. He won, of course, and still runs his mouth about Jude anytime he needs sympathy from voters. My 18th birthday was two weeks before graduation and I spent it in the court room changing my last name.”</p><p>I mean, there was a whole ‘nother side to what had happened to lead up to that, of course, but I wasn’t going into that. And what I’d told my avidly-listening profiler had been pretty much true – the campaign had been the <i>last</i> straw, it just wasn’t the <i>only</i> straw on top. What I said seemed to be enough to distract from the little bit I was sweeping under the rug.</p><p>“And they didn’t know,” Reid continued for me, piecing together the puzzle. “So at your graduation...”</p><p>“They’d already printed the programs so they couldn’t change my name physically, but they said they’d use that name to call me to stage. According to Aubri, the second they heard <i>Aria Isabella DiMaggio</i>, they were storming out of their seats. They weren’t home when I packed up that night, and I stayed with Aubri that summer before school. I haven’t seen them since.”</p><p>The two of us fell quiet, both smiling a bit as we stared down at our shoes. I’d never actually gotten that all off of my chest. The only person who knew almost all of that was Aubrianna, and even then she didn’t know most of the details I’d just spilled to Reid. </p><p>“Thanks for listening,” I finally told him, and Reid looked back up to give me a reassuring smile. “It was... it’s nice to talk about Jude. About it all. I can’t really talk about any of it with my family, and I don’t have many friends that want to listen to all that, you know?”</p><p>“You can talk to me any time. About Jude, or, you know –” he shrugged and ducked his head again. “I know what it’s like to talk and not have anyone listen. I’m happy to listen to you.”</p><p>Warmth spread through me and the grin on my face couldn’t be helped, though I wished the blush didn’t have to accompany it… When I didn’t answer, Reid looked up, concerned he’d said something he shouldn’t have. When he saw the genuine appreciation in my gaze he relaxed as I said softly, </p><p>“That really means a lot. Thank you.”</p><p>“You’re welcome,” he smiled, getting to his feet. At the questioning look I gave him, he shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “You have a phone call to make. I’m sure your sister will be really happy to see you.”</p><p>Not only had he truly, fully listened to me, he had picked up on things I hadn’t even said. Shaking my head and biting my lip – trying to keep my crush from showing through more than it already was – I flipped my phone open and dialed my sister’s number. </p><p>“Finally remembered I exist, huh goober?” she teased the moment she answered; I heard her shut her office door. “What’s up?”</p><p>“What’re you doing tonight?” I asked, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in my chest. </p><p>“Uh... Well, a whole lot of nothing. Probably wrangling the kids into their baths, drinking a bottle of wine in a dark kitchen by myself at 9pm –”</p><p>“As fun as that sounds, how about you and I have dinner?” </p><p>She paused; I could feel the surprise through the phone. </p><p>“I mean, I’d love to, but I’m not flying to Virginia,” she started; I grinned and said excitedly, </p><p>“I’ll just come to you then.”</p><p>She let out a squeal so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. </p><p>“Oh my god, no way! You’re coming here?!”</p><p>“I’m on the plane now,” I told her. “I’ll text you when we land and let you know when I can come by.”</p><p>“The kids are gonna be so excited, you have no idea,” she laughed. “Oh, I have <i>so</i> much to catch you up on. You’re not gonna believe who just got married...”</p><p>As my sister went on and on, I settled back in the seat and kicked my feet up, letting at least the top layer of my nerves melt away. Finally, I was looking forward to going back home. As I finally started to sip my tea, Reid caught my eye a few seats down and gave me a warm, understanding smile. </p><p>Thanks to him, I could finally relax. </p><p>--</p><p>“I want to hit the ground running,” Hotch told us as we all hurried to follow him into the police station; thanks to my short legs I already <i>was</i> running. “If the UnSub sticks to the pattern, we don’t have much time before the next killing.”</p><p>“JJ and I will go to the ME, see what we can find,” Morgan volunteered. With a swift nod from Hotch, he and JJ turned on the spot and rushed back out to the SUV. I scanned the officers gathered around the station and relaxed just a bit. I didn’t see my uncle, so for now my secret was safe. Aubrianna had promised not to say a word to mom and dad, so I pushed that worry to the back of my mind. </p><p>Hotch made the introductions to the Denver Sheriff as we dropped our things in one of the conference rooms. Just as we’d begun setting up the evidence board, Hotch leaned into the room. </p><p>“Reid, Aria, I want you with me at the crime scene. Prentiss, we’re having neighbors from a previous attack come in and I’d like you to interview them as soon as possible.”</p><p>Emily gave a quick nod and took the photos from us as Reid and I turned to practically race after Hotch; apparently we were gonna work on cardio today. At the SUV, he paused and turned to hand me the keys. Reid <i>and</i> I gave him looks of alarmed confusion. </p><p>“You know the city,” he prompted as I took the keys slowly. “You can get us to the crime scene efficiently, and from what I understand from Prentiss and Garcia, you can do it quickly.”</p><p>“For the record, they’re both exaggerating,” I scoffed, trying to look as innocent as I was claiming to be. Hotch raised a brow in doubt and I flashed a cheeky smile before scrambling into the SUV to take us through Cherry Creek. </p><p>“Reid, I need you interviewing neighbors,” Hotch briefed as we neared the destination. “Get as many people and as much detail as you can. Aria, I want you inside with me walking the scene.”</p><p>“You got it boss man,” I told him, turning onto the victim’s street just a few minutes later. “Okay, here we go.”</p><p>I pulled up across the street and tucked the keys into my skirt pocket (trust me – I never bought a skirt without pockets) and pulled my small notepad out of the other. Hotch led us to the house and Reid split off, heading for the crowd gathering. </p><p>“Agents,” someone called from the side of the house; Hotch and I skirted the lawn and came up to the officer waiving us over. “I’m Lieutenant Nellis. Thank you for coming out here so quickly.”</p><p>“Certainly. I’m Agent Hotchner, Dr. Reid is with the neighbors, and this is our intern Miss DiMaggio.”</p><p>Lt. Nellis shook our hands and motioned for us to come around back. </p><p>“This is where they left from,” he said, waving his hand at the back door; bloody handprints were smudged down the panels, over the handle. Hotch studied it for a moment and then skirted inside, and I scampered after him. </p><p>“No sign of forced entry,” Lt. Nellis explained, pulling ahead to lead us to the front of the house. I skimmed the notes I’d taken on the plane and nodded in agreement. </p><p>“Same as the other two houses, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he confirmed, moving aside as we paused at the front door. Hotch stepped forward and then glanced back at me. </p><p>“So it’s late, and the doorbell rings. What would I do?”</p><p>Oh, profiling time! I tucked my notebook away and walked towards the door, studying it as I put myself in the victim’s shoes. Hotch handed me a rubber glove and I slid it onto my hand quickly. </p><p>“I’d turn on the porch light to see who it was.” He nodded at me to do so, and I snapped it up; nothing happened. “Well that’s an interesting coincidence.”</p><p>“It is,” he agreed, walking past me onto the porch. He reached up and, with his own glove, turned the light bulb just a hint to the right. The light came on. </p><p>“They made it dark so no one would see them if they came walking by,” I said quietly. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized how well they’d planned this out. The family had no idea...</p><p>“But I can still see through the peephole,” Hotch continued for me, coming back inside and shutting the door. He opened the latch for the peephole and motioned for me to look through. Thankfully, with my heels, I was just tall enough to look through. “What would you do, seeing me on your porch at that time of night?”</p><p>“Well, if you look like trouble, I wouldn’t let you in,” I mused, and then turned to look up at him. “But if you look non-threatening, I might open up to see what you need.”</p><p>“The victims either knew the UnSub, or they lied their way in,” Hotch agreed, nodding. “With this kind of overkill, there’s usually a history.”</p><p>Hotch turned and led us into the living room as I jotted in my notebook. </p><p>“If this was just about eliminating witnesses, it wouldn’t have been this vicious,” I thought out loud, my eyes falling to the bloodied living room. Hotch nodded again as he studied the dark stains as well. </p><p>“This is rage,” he agreed; Lt. Nellis paused beside me and frowned at the couches. </p><p>“You think they knew the families?”</p><p>“It’s possible,” Hotch confirmed as I jotted down everything as fast as I could. “Then, there’s the kids. Tucked in, quiet, orderly, controlled.”</p><p>My mind clicked with what he was saying and I added quickly, </p><p>“That speaks to an introvert with some capacity for remorse. But that doesn’t match up with lying to get in, or this rage...”</p><p>“Two profiles,” Hotch murmured; we looked at one another in realization. “Two UnSub’s. Aria, grab Reid. We need to get back to the station.”</p><p>With a nod, I scampered through the house and out the front door. Reid wasn’t far, just turning away from interviewing one of the neighbors. He looked up as I approached and flicked his brows up in concern seeing me scurry across the lawn.</p><p>“Everything okay?”</p><p>“Uh huh,” I said quickly, shoving down the fluttering in my chest at the tone of his concern. “Hotch wants to head back. You ready?”</p><p>He nodded and we fell into step together, meeting Hotch at the SUV. We climbed in and I drove us back to the station, mind racing with what we’d found. As we turned into the parking lot of the station, my heart skittered to a panicked stop. </p><p><i>Jefferson County Sheriff</i> was on the car parked in front. Uncle Randy. So much for flying under the radar. I took a deep breath to settle myself as I parked, though I hesitated before getting out. </p><p>Maybe he wouldn’t recognize me. Maybe I could just hide in the conference room or duck behind Hotch and Morgan when we left to go somewhere. Maybe I could just go visit Aubrianna and hide out there until it was time to leave –</p><p>“Aria?” Hotch asked, coming up to the driver’s side where I was still seated. I quickly pushed the anxiety off my face and hopped out of the car. “Is everything –”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about the case,” I told him; it wasn’t <i>technically</i> a lie, right? Hotch nodded in understanding, ushering me ahead of him into the station where Reid was just disappearing to.</p><p>The moment we stepped inside, my hopes of going unnoticed were ripped away. My uncle was standing with Morgan, who waved us over as soon as we were inside. </p><p><i>How inappropriate would it be to just turn and run back outside</i>? I asked myself, edging slowly after Hotch. I was fast. I could easily make it halfway to downtown with adrenaline on my side…</p><p>“Guys, this is Randy Taylor, Sheriff of Jefferson County just up the road. Sheriff Taylor, this is the rest of my team,” Morgan announced. Reid instantly turned and caught my eye, alarm spiking through him when he realized who was in front of him. It was too late, though. “This is our supervisory special agent Aaron Hotchner, Dr. Spencer Reid, and our intern Aria DiMaggio.”</p><p>I saw the surprise tense up his shoulders as my uncle’s eyes finally settled on me. Hotch and Reid nodded in hello but he ignored them, a slow, dangerously-wide smile came over his face as his sharp eyes burned into me. </p><p>This wasn’t gonna end well.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You guys are truly the best! Thank you for all your support. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! I know this chapter is a little heavy on Aria's background but you're gonna need it for the upcoming chapters. </p><p>Please let me know what you think - your comments mean the world to me and I love hearing your thoughts on the story!</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. In Good Company</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x04 - Children of the Dark</i>
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<p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/618003032103403521/the-smitten-smile-on-my-face-came-out-before-i">Chapter GIF</a>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It didn’t take a profiler to catch all the emotions that flickered across my uncle’s face as our eyes locked. Mild surprise, realization, and then smug satisfaction. He knew just how uncomfortable he made me, and it seemed he still liked getting a rise out of me.</p>
<p>Even years after leaving home I still had nightmares about Uncle Randy chasing me through the house with his belt in hand, or dragging me down the stairs by the back of my neck when I refused to come out of my room…</p>
<p>He took a step forward and I instinctively shifted my weight back, bumping into Hotch.</p>
<p>“Well, look who finally came home,” he said slowly, folding his arms and fixing me with a stare that used to send fear spiking through me. I fought to keep my face neutral, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for working me up. “They just let anyone into the FBI nowadays, don’t they?”</p>
<p>The old Aria would’ve snapped back at him, thrown things at him until it got nasty and one of us either left or threw a hit. This time, I stayed quiet. FBI Intern Aria getting into a fight with Uncle Sheriff in the middle of a case was the exact last thing I needed right now. Besides, I knew Reid, Hotch, and Morgan could all see my discomfort and they looked ready to intervene on my behalf</p>
<p>When Uncle Randy saw I wasn’t gonna give it back to him, he dropped the poorly-veiled hostile attitude and gave a facetious laugh. </p>
<p>“What, you run away and join the FBI and your uncle can’t give you a hard time?” He moved before I could react and clapped a hand on my shoulder, pulling me into an uncomfortably tight hug. “There’s my little bowl’a sugar!”</p>
<p>My entire body tensed and without hesitation I pulled myself back and broke his hold. It was learned instinct to get as far away from Uncle Randy as I could; if I was within grabbing distance, I was within punishing distance. The notoriously dangerous gleam I knew too well flickered to life in his eyes; I was challenging his authority, and <i>no one</i> challenged the Sheriff. </p>
<p>10-year-old Aria would run, and that’s exactly what 21-year-old Aria wanted to do. My fight-or-flight was dying to get me out of his reach, get me somewhere he couldn’t follow. <i>Nearest tree, up onto the roof, into Jude’s room</i>… except I was an adult, at my adult job, and I couldn’t high-tail it the other direction. While I debated my escape options Uncle Randy capitalized, stepping up and digging his fingers into my arm to hold me in place, ready to drag me forward again.</p>
<p>Thank god I had profilers on my side. Hotch had a hold of my other arm and a heartbeat later I was pulled me back between himself and Reid. In the same moment Morgan subtly slipped between us, acting like he needed a file that Reid had. </p>
<p>My silent discomfort was so obvious to them they knew instantly I wanted out of the situation. Hotch, ever the professional, gave a smile to my uncle to squash the objection I saw rising up inside him. He <i>really</i> didn’t like anyone going against him and Hotch had done just that. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry to interrupt your reunion,” he said apologetically; his hand hadn’t left my arm and he subtly tugged me a bit further back. “We’re short on time and I need Aria getting the paperwork sorted.”</p>
<p>Uncle Randy pulled his cold smile off me to give Hotch one that could maybe kind of pass as pleasant. </p>
<p>“Understood, Agent. Gotta keep on top of this one or you won’t get any use outta her. I just came down to offer our support to y’all, seein’ as Denver is a pretty small county an’ we’ve got plenty of manpower waitin’ to help out.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Hotch started, nudging me along behind his back as he led my uncle into a conversation to keep him sidetracked. Reid and I took the hint and Morgan followed us as we all but sprinted to the conference room; Emily looked up in alarm as we stumbled inside. </p>
<p>“Well <i>that</i> was the definition of uncomfortable,” Morgan huffed, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry,” I said quickly, giving an apologetic grimace. “I was trying not to make that weird –”</p>
<p>“Oh no, it wasn’t <i>you</i> sunshine,” he promised, and to my surprise Reid nodded in agreement. “It was Sheriff McCreepy and his sociopathic smile. <i>He’s</i> your <i>uncle</i>?”</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Emily asked in alarm, looking between us. “What’d I miss?!”</p>
<p>As I went to answer, Hotch poked his head into the room and immediately gave me a look before ducking back out. <i>Uh oh</i>. I sat my things on the table and turned to follow him out of the room, hands instantly coming together to twist my fingers nervously.</p>
<p>He led us down a back hall and into an empty office room, stepping aside to hold the door. Once I was in, he shut it and turned to study me. He didn’t look angry, like I’d been expecting. He crossed his arms over his chest, but he fixed me with a concerned frown that was borderline... <i>fatherly</i>. </p>
<p>“Being around your uncle makes you extremely uncomfortable,” he began; I gave a single, quick nod. “You seemed fearful when he moved closer and panicked when he touched you.”</p>
<p>Oh. <i>Oh</i>. I realized instantly where he was going with his thoughts and I shook my head quickly to dispel his suspicion. </p>
<p>“It’s nothing like that. He never – it wasn’t like that at all. I promise.” Hotch gave a curt nod and relaxed minutely, but there was still a burning question in his eyes and he silently urged me to elaborate. “Uncle Randy and I have always just… we’ve never liked each other. He spent a lot of his time helping our parents out with us all while they were busy with their careers. My brother was quietly rebellious and my sister was obedient but I… well, he’s always tried to exercise authority he didn’t have with me. The badge on his chest goes straight to his ego.”</p>
<p>“Why are you fearful of him?” he pressed, and I dropped my gaze to my shoes, honestly embarrassed at how I’d reacted. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry about that. It’s nothing. He just startled me, and it was a knee-jerk reaction –”</p>
<p>“To what?” he cut in with a stern tone. He was worried; he was a profiler, and he was a dad. He knew the signs I’d just thrown out. “Did he ever put his hands on you, in <i>any</i> capacity?”</p>
<p>For a heartbeat I hesitated, but I didn’t want to lie to Hotch. He’d stepped in when I’d needed him earlier and I owed him the truth.</p>
<p>“He never had kids of his own, and he’d get mad when I didn’t listen. He doesn’t have patience for children. I was the rebel of the family and he didn’t know how to handle me when I got defiant. Jude was old enough that he couldn’t put himself above him, and Aubri never had to be told twice, but me…” Hotch’s frown deepened, waiting for me to keep going. “It was just little things, and to be fair I <i>did</i> instigate a lot of it. I’d talk back and get a smack on the mouth. If I tried to get away from him or run off before I did what he asked I got a hard hand on my arm or in my hair to keep me in place while he yelled and forced me to do what he’d asked. And when everything else didn’t work I’d get his belt until I stopped fighting his authority.”</p>
<p>For several moments we both went silent, the weight of my words hanging uncomfortably between us. I had no idea how Hotch was gonna react; after all, I <i>had</i> brought on most of my punishments myself. It was well-deserved and nothing I shouldn’t have expected, according to mom and dad. Being a smartass with a heavy dose of snark was second nature, my go-to defense, and it was just a natural response to make a smart remark without thinking it through. </p>
<p>“It’s clear you don’t want to be around him, and I see no reason for you to need to work with him,” he said finally, tone softening just a hint. “We won’t be enlisting Jefferson County’s assistance, and while he remains here, I would prefer if you kept away from him.”</p>
<p>Okay, I hadn’t been expecting <i>that</i>. All I could do was blink up at my boss in disbelief. Guilt immediately bubbled inside me and I gave a small shake of my head. </p>
<p>“I’m being childish. It’s unprofessional to keep them off the case just because –”</p>
<p>“I know what you’re telling yourself, and I can assure that this isn’t an overreaction,” he interrupted gently. “I read others for a living, Aria. It’s easy to me to see the discomfort and instinctive fear you have around him, whether you’ll admit that to yourself or not. My job is not only to solve this case, but to keep my team safe and efficient at all times.”</p>
<p>Well now I <i>really</i> didn’t know what to say. As much of a baby as it made me, actual tears pricked my eyes. In just a single, brief interaction Hotch had picked up on my fear of Uncle Randy and he wasn’t going to allow any of the shit he’d undoubtedly try to pull. He was stopping what my parents had allowed – borderline <i>encouraged</i> – for years. For the first time my fear was heard, and I hadn’t even needed to say anything. </p>
<p>Without thinking I rushed forward and wrapped my arms tight around Hotch’s waist, sniffing as I fought to keep the tears back. My psychology-trained mind was screaming at me to stop reading so much into this, but my emotional ass didn’t want to listen. </p>
<p>“Thanks Hotch. Really,” I said softly into his suit jacket. For several moments he didn’t move, and it struck me that he probably wasn’t one for spontaneous hugs. I’d just begun to loosen my grip when he rested a tentative hand on my back and gave a gentle pat. </p>
<p>We didn’t say anything as we stepped apart. I hastily wiped away the few tears that had slipped out as he waited patiently for me to compose myself. With a quick nod and a last sniff, Hotch opened the door and we headed back down the hall to join the others. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“What do we have so far?” Lt. Nellis asked, pacing the conference room. </p>
<p>“We know these guys don’t lack confidence,” Hotch began, folding his arms over his chest as he studied the rest of us. Reid, also pacing, paused beside me and I glanced up from my trusty notebook. </p>
<p>“Targeting entire families is a high-risk endeavor,” he explained, probably more for my benefit. I jotted quicker as he continued, “it’s possible they’re minimizing that risk by jamming cell phones inside the house so no one can call out.”</p>
<p>I nodded in agreement as Lt. Nellis asked,</p>
<p>“High-tech, then. That narrows the profile, right?”</p>
<p>“Not necessarily,” I said instinctively, and stopped immediately when I realized I’d just cut in. When I looked up, though, Hotch gave me a small nod to continue so I turned to glance over at the Lieutenant. “You can buy hand-held jammers online for like, a hundred bucks.”</p>
<p>“Seriously?” he scoffed. “People really just up and buy a cell phone jammer?”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah. It’s actually pretty common. People on my campus have them. Some use it when they're studying to get some peace and quiet, some just use it to be jerks. But they’re easy to get, even easier to figure out.”</p>
<p>“Well if I’d known that, I would’ve gotten one to take with me to the movies last weekend,” he sighed, earning a chuckle from the rest of us as Morgan’s phone rang. He flipped it open and said quickly, </p>
<p>“Hey girl. You’re on speaker. Behave.”</p>
<p>“Or what?” Penelope teased. “You’ll <i>spank</i> me?”</p>
<p>“Penelope!” I squeaked, cutting her off before she could go further. “<i>Speaker phone</i>!”</p>
<p>“Right...” she groaned; I could feel her wince from here. Hotch and Reid shared a look of disbelief. JJ, Emily, and I dissolved into giggles as Morgan threw his hands up in exasperation. Lt. Nellis looked around in bemused alarm as Penelope quickly continued,</p>
<p>“So, uh, I’ve been searching the area for unsolved robberies and I’ve found four with similar elements... Phone lines cut, small valuables only.”</p>
<p>“Occupants tied up?” Morgan asked. Penelope made a noise of agreement and explained,</p>
<p>“No homicides, though.”</p>
<p>“Got it, dollface. Thanks. I’ll call you back.”</p>
<p>Reid <i>hmm</i>’d and settled into the open seat to my left as the room fell silent, mulling over what Penelope had said. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I dug it out, reading the text in my lap from none other than Pen herself.</p>
<p>
  <i>OMG. How awkward was that??</i>
</p>
<p>Stifling a snort, I typed back,</p>
<p>
  <i>What part of speakerphone did you not understand?!</i>
</p>
<p><i>God I’m more awkward than you are around Reid!</i> I nearly gasped out loud, eyes wide as I stared at her message, unable to think of a reply. Instinctively I stole a peek up at Reid like I expected him to somehow sense his name in a text. A few moments later I got another message, <i>Oh I can feel your blush from Quantico</i>.</p>
<p><i>Lose my number</i>, I sent playfully, only to get a final reply of, </p>
<p>
  <i>Never, my sweet little honeybee.</i>
</p>
<p>“Well, if these are our guys, something made them graduate to murder,” Hotch finally said as I tucked my phone away, looking around the table. Emily nodded in agreement and added,</p>
<p>“If we can figure out what that trigger was, it might tell us how they’re choosing their victims.”</p>
<p>“Let’s think on that for now,” Hotch decided, standing up from his spot against the desk and checking the clock on the wall. “In the meantime, we can grab some dinner and meet back in a couple of hours once we’re refreshed.”</p>
<p>The rest of us voiced our agreement and instantly I was pulling up Aubrianna’s name in my phone. Before I could call her, though, JJ and Emily came up to me. </p>
<p>“You want to do dinner with us?” Emily asked. “I’m sure you can find a good restaurant.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah, I’d love to,” I began, and added sheepishly, “but I was gonna catch dinner with my sister and her kids.”</p>
<p>“They could join us,” Morgan suggested, coming up to our gathering and sharing a look of agreement with the other two. They all nodded and turned back to me. “But if you wanted some time alone –”</p>
<p>“I’d love for you guys to meet them!” I said instantly, grin taking over my face. “Let me give her a call and see what she wants to do.”</p>
<p>“We’ll meet you out front,” JJ said, leading the others out of the conference room. I dialed my sister and waited impatiently for her to pick up. </p>
<p>“Hey! You ready to eat?” she asked; I heard the kids in the background. “I haven’t told them you’re our special guest tonight. They’re gonna go <i>wild</i>.”</p>
<p>“I can’t wait,” I laughed. “Hey, would you mind eating with the rest of my team too? They’d all love to meet you guys and they asked me to eat with them. But if you want to do just a family dinner –”</p>
<p>“Are you kidding? Your nephew is going to lose his mind,” she laughed; was that a yes? “Didn’t I tell you he wants to be a police officer now? Having dinner with the FBI is gonna rock his tiny world!”</p>
<p>I giggled as a thrum of excitement shivered through me. That was definitely a yes! I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder as I made my way through the station. </p>
<p>“Great. Okay then. Where should we take them?”</p>
<p>“Uh, <i>Piatti</i>. Duh. What kind of question is that?” she scoffed. “Kids! Let’s go!”</p>
<p>“Ugh, are you <i>trying</i> to kill me?” I groaned, admittedly drooling at the thought of one of my favorite restaurants. <i>No one</i> in Denver did authentic Italian like they did. “Did you forget I’m diabetic?”</p>
<p>“You’ve got insulin. Prepare for a delicious dinner. I’ll see you in a few.”</p>
<p>With a roll of my eyes, I hung up and pocketed my phone, stepping outside where the rest of the team was gathered. </p>
<p>“Do you guys like Italian food?”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>With all our go-bags still piled in the back, fitting the whole team into one SUV had been a challenge only accomplished with some creative maneuvering and my promise to get us to the restaurant as quick as possible. I made the ten-minute drive in just under six minutes, much to the team’s surprise – and Hotch’s mild concern. He gave me a wary side-eye as he unbuckled from the passenger seat almost reluctantly.</p>
<p>“I <i>told</i> you guys,” Emily snorted as she unfolded herself from the backseat. </p>
<p>“I thought we were with the FBI, not NASCAR,” JJ laughed, following her into the parking lot as Reid got out the other side. He quirked a smile at me but didn’t comment on my driving, ever the gentleman. </p>
<p>“Hey, you said fast and I already took my insulin. I’m on a time-crunch,” I pointed out to the others, scampering around back to open the hatch. Morgan almost fell out from where we’d wedged him between the bags. </p>
<p>“That’s it, sunshine, gimmie the keys. I already lost half a year off my life and I’m not ready to die young and deprive the world of my looks and charm just yet,” he griped; I rolled my eyes and pocketed the them before he could steal them. Before I could argue back, though, I caught sight of two kids sprinting across the parking lot. </p>
<p>“<i>Auntie</i>!” my niece and nephew chorused, arms out wide as they beelined for me. Instantly forgetting that I was with my team and had been trying to stay professional, I skirted past Morgan and ran for my welcoming committee. </p>
<p>I sank to a knee, arms opening up just in time to catch the kids as they launched at me. How I managed to keep my balance, I’d never know. Wyatt’s small arms locked like vice-grips around my neck as he practically melted to me. Katelynn wriggled in and hugged me tight around the waist as I wrapped them into hugs. </p>
<p>“Okay, okay, let Auntie breathe,” my sister chided, jogging after them to wrangle her offspring. I managed to push my face between them to give her a wild grin as she approached. </p>
<p>Between the two of us, she’d definitely won out with her looks. She was tall and slim, with a small waist and long, defined legs from her years of volleyball. She’d inherited mom’s olive skin and dad’s blonde hair, topped off with striking golden-brown eyes. I'd always teased that I didn’t understand why she never got into modeling since she insisted on taking all the good looks for herself. </p>
<p>She was just as gorgeous today as she was the last time I’d seen her, waving goodbye with a sleeping Wyatt on her hip and a crying Katelynn clinging to her leg as I boarded my plane to Seattle. </p>
<p>The children attached to me had certainly changed, however. Or, more accurately, doubled in size. With her help I managed to get to my feet holding onto both the kids. Though Katelynn slid down and thankfully stood on her own, Wyatt refused to let go of me. </p>
<p><i>I’ve got him</i>, I mouthed to my sister as she pulled me into a tight hug, sandwiching her four-year-old between us. We weren’t all that sentimental and – having just remembered my team behind me – I was glad neither of us lingered on our <i>hello</i>’s. </p>
<p>“Mom didn’t say <i>you</i> were the surprise!” Katelynn gushed, taking the hand that wasn’t holding up her brother as we made our way back towards the others. </p>
<p>“Well, that’s the whole ‘<i>surprise</i>’ thing, Katie-cat,” I told her, getting a giggle from my niece as Wyatt finally leaned back to look at me fully. His brows were furrowed and he fixed me with a studious stare that looked almost out of place on his small, chubby face.</p>
<p>“Are you <i>really</i> in the FBI?” he demanded; only now did I notice he was in a police officer costume. Could this kid be any more adorable?</p>
<p>“I am,” I confirmed, and when his stare turned skeptical I added, “this is the rest of my FBI team.” He turned in my arm to study the others as we all gathered on the sidewalk. “Everyone, this is my sister Aubrianna, my niece Katelynn, and my nephew Wyatt.”</p>
<p>There was a chorus of <i>hello</i>’s from the others. Katelynn ducked behind Aubrianna – who gave a wave in greeting – as Wyatt squirmed out of my hold. </p>
<p>“This is my team. This is Aaron Hotchner -” Wyatt went forward and held out his hand. Hotch, grinning down at him, took it and gave a small shake. Wyatt moved down the rest of the line as I went on. “Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid.”</p>
<p>Aubrianna waved to them in return as Wyatt finished up his handshakes – even Reid gave him one, to my pleasant surprise – and motioned for us to follow her. </p>
<p>“It’s great to meet you all. I’m so glad y’all could come, I’ve been dying to meet Aria’s team. She talks about you guys <i>all the time</i>,” she said, scooping Wyatt up and taking Katelynn’s hand, her natural charismatic personality coming off as sweet as ever. Seriously, my sister had gained <i>all</i> the attraction and charm. “I reserved us a table, and don’t even <i>think</i> about paying. Dinner’s on me.”</p>
<p>I was the first to voice my objection, though the others weren’t far behind. </p>
<p>“Aubri, no. That’s way too much –”</p>
<p>“Louis and Loretta still own the place and I called in a favor,” she dismissed with a pointed glance over her shoulder as she led the way inside. </p>
<p>“You’re using a favor of the family on <i>me</i>,” I pointed out quietly, giving her a heavy look. “You really think dad isn’t gonna flip if he finds out?”</p>
<p>Aubrianna sighed and gave me the most reassuring smile she could. “It’s not a big deal. You guys are my guests, so let me take care of this, goober.”</p>
<p>“Goober, eh? Like the candy?” Morgan teased, coming up behind me and tugging on one of my curls. I rolled my eyes and playfully smacked his hand away as I nodded. “Where’s <i>that</i> one come from?”</p>
<p>“I’m sweet but a little nutty,” I muttered, glaring at my older sister as Morgan, Emily, <i>and</i> JJ snickered. As she smirked at my embarrassment I flashed a cheeky grin. “Thanks for that, <i>Aub-stopper</i>.”</p>
<p>Katelynn and I sniggered to ourselves as my sister’s face lit up red. We had a slew of embarrassing nicknames; I could – and <i>would</i> – play this game all night. Before she could retaliate, though, one of the hosts came up to us and flashed Aubrianna an alarmingly bright smile.</p>
<p>“Ah, Ms. Taylor,” he cooed, pulling my sister into one of the weirdest hugs I’d ever seen as he air-kissed her cheeks. “It’s lovely to have you dine with us again. Wyatt, Katelynn, a pleasure as always!”</p>
<p>The kids blinked up at him dismissively as he turned to the rest of the group. Aubrianna pulled me into a side hug. </p>
<p>“Cal, you remember my baby sister Aria,” she hinted since, clearly, he didn’t. He plastered a fake smile on and pulled me into the same awkward hug and air-kisses. </p>
<p>“Of course, of course! A pleasure, Miss Aria. And who might your guests be?”</p>
<p>“Aria’s friends from work,” she dismissed. “I believe I have a table reserved? We’re on a schedule –”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, right this way Ms. Taylor,” he assured, beckoning us through. I hung back just a hint to share a look of <i>this guy is crazy</i> with Emily and JJ before we followed them through the restaurant to one of the private dining rooms. Man, what kind of favors did Louis and Loretta owe mom and dad? This place was as fancy as I’d remembered it, and I knew my paycheck would barely cover <i>myself</i>… how did Aubri swing a whole private dining area? Mom and dad were <i>definitely</i> not gonna be happy about this. </p>
<p>A large, long table had been centered in the room and soft operatic music played in the background. The nine of us spread out down the table and somehow, I managed to find myself next to Reid. He smiled at me when we realized we were beside one another, and he pulled out my chair for me. </p>
<p>Of course, as I was blushing and taking my seat, that was the time my sister decided to look across to me. When I met her eyes she had a smirk on her face. I threw her my best <i>shut up and drop it</i> look as the rest of us settled. </p>
<p>Hotch was to my left, with Emily and JJ further down our side. Katelynn was across from Reid, Wyatt across from Hotch, and Morgan next to the mini officer-in-training. Instantly my nephew turned in his seat and looked up at him. </p>
<p>“Do you have a gun?”</p>
<p>“I sure do, little man,” Morgan told him, twisting in his seat to show him his holstered pistol. Wyatt’s eyes widened excitedly. </p>
<p>“<i>Wow</i>! Mommy won’t let me have a gun. Do you chase a lot of bad guys?”</p>
<p>“Pretty much every day,” he confirmed; before he was even done answering, Wyatt asked, </p>
<p>“Do you kick in doors? I saw that on the TV that they were lookin’ for the bad guy, an’ the police man, he just ran up to the door an’ he knocked an’ when they didn’t answer –“</p>
<p>Aubrianna sighed and leaned around her excited toddler to give Morgan a look. </p>
<p>“I’ll switch seats with him if he gets to be too much. He’ll ask you questions <i>all night</i> if you let him.”</p>
<p>“It’s no trouble at all,” he promised, flashing her a warm smile. “I love kids.”</p>
<p>“Yeah mommy he loves me,” Wyatt told my sister pointedly before turning back to Morgan to continue talking like he’d never stopped. Hotch, Aubri and I snorted and she rolled her eyes, leaving them to their conversation. </p>
<p>Katelynn had been quiet, and I’d just noticed she’d pulled out a book from Aubrianna’s bag. She had a lot of Jude in her, too. She was quiet, studious, and super uncomfortable in big crowds. Just like the brilliant, handsome doctor to my right. </p>
<p>“What’re you reading?” He asked the painfully shy seven-year-old, giving a warm smile as she peeked up over the book. She held it for him to see and his face lit up. “Oh, the Magic Treehouse Books! I read those when I was younger too.”</p>
<p>“This one’s <i>The Knight at Dawn</i>,” she said quietly, sitting up just a bit more. “It’s my favorite.”</p>
<p>“That’s the one where Jack and Annie go to the middle ages and get caught in the castle, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Of <i>course</i> he would know exactly what she was reading. Katelynn’s face lit up and she sat <i>all</i> the way up now, setting her book on the table as she nodded excitedly. </p>
<p>“Uh huh! And they meet the knight and he helps them get back home!”</p>
<p>“That’s the one,” he agreed. “That’s a very good book. Why is this your favorite?”</p>
<p>“’Cause I love knights and castles and Camelot,” she said excitedly, and added just a <i>hint</i> more reserved, “my name’s Katie.”</p>
<p>“I’m Spencer,” he said, giving her a genuine smile. “The middle ages were really cool. Did you know that eels were regularly used as currency during that time?”</p>
<p>The look on Katie’s face made Aubri and I laugh as Spencer bit back a smile. His tongue pressed to his teeth and his soft eyes crinkled at the edges as Katie giggled and shook her head.</p>
<p>“<i>Eels</i>?”</p>
<p>“Yes, they were actually worth quite a bit back then. You see, they were sold in bundles of 25, called <i>sticks</i>, and in medieval England the owner of an English watermill was paid 1,000 sticks of eels for rent…”</p>
<p>Katie was hanging on Reid’s every word, her hazel eyes wide with curiosity as he told her information she’d probably never thought to wonder about. I could tell <i>he</i> was excited too, finally able to go into the interesting, unusual things he knew without being cut off or made fun of. </p>
<p>Okay, so maybe my heart melted a bit. He was <i>already</i> sweet and adorable, but seeing him all excited, almost instantly getting my super shy niece comfortable enough to talk animatedly with him... The smitten smile on my face came out before I could stop it. I quickly looked around as I cleared my throat and caught Aubrianna smirking at me. </p>
<p>“Oh <i>really</i> now?” she teased. I glared and tried to fight the blush on my face. </p>
<p>“Whatever. No. I just - shut up. Didn’t you say someone got married?” I prompted. She laughed and gave me a knowing look but thankfully dropped the subject. Wyatt had captivated the entire other half of the table – no surprise there. Aubri and I fell into our own conversation to leave Reid and Katie to their talk about eels and medieval life. </p>
<p>Dinner flew by a lot faster than I’d wanted it to. I swore all I did was blink and already it was time to be heading back. By the time we were making our way outside, there was the serious concern of how we were getting the kids away from the team. Hotch and JJ were walking out each holding one of Wyatt’s hands as he, Morgan, and Emily debated about the coolest power ranger. </p>
<p>Katie and Reid were inseparable, walking together and skimming through her book as they exchanged facts about pretty much <i>anything</i> at this point. Aubri and I hung back, walking arm-in-arm, watching the scene in front of us. </p>
<p>“I know I was worried before,” she said softly, looking down at me. “But I think you found a really great thing in Quantico. It took a lot of courage and dedication to make this work and I’m really proud of you, Aria.”</p>
<p>I gave her a small, genuine smile and leaned into my big sister. She rested her head on mine as I said softly, </p>
<p>“Thank you. It means a lot. And,” I tugged her to a stop. “I know you didn’t say anything to mom and dad about me being here, or even about moving to Virginia… but I want you to.”</p>
<p>“What?” she asked in surprise. “Why? You know they won’t be happy –”</p>
<p>“Uncle Randy was at the police station today,” I sighed, and her face fell in realization. “I know he’s already told them and I don’t want them finding out you knew. They’d just get mad at you for taking my side and it’s not worth all the drama.”</p>
<p>She sighed but nodded in understanding, tugging me with her as we made to catch up to the others. </p>
<p>“If you’re okay with it… but, I’ll tell them I paid for dinner. I’m pretty sure you’re right, they’d be mad I comped the meal for my rebellious little sister.” We both snorted at that; I could just <i>hear</i> my dad spouting off that exact line. “Did, uh… did you run into Connor yet?”</p>
<p>I froze on instinct, my entire body going cold. My chest tightened just at the mention of his name and, as much as I hated it, I felt the instinctive panic start to take over. My sister rested a gentle hand on my arm, grounding me as I fought to take a shaky breath.</p>
<p>“Uh, um, n-no. No. And – and  I’d really like to keep it that way –“</p>
<p>“I won’t say a thing,” she swore, a quiet intensity in her voice that settled the fear rising through me. “But you know mom and her mouth…”</p>
<p>“Just… <i>shit</i>. Yeah.” There was no way mom <i>wouldn’t</i> talk about me to the one person I never wanted to see again. I let out a groan and scrubbed a hand down my face in frustration. “Don’t worry about it. None of them have my number, and it’s gonna stay that way. I’ll be across the country again in a few days anyways.”</p>
<p>“I can talk to them about it. I know they don’t get the whole situation but –“</p>
<p>“No, Aubs, it’s fine. Really. I don’t want you getting into it with them over this. It’ll be done in a few days and we don’t need to touch it again.”</p>
<p>We fell silent as we reached the SUV, my words hanging heavily over us. I knew she didn’t believe for a second <i>any</i> of that was fine, but she also knew I wouldn’t talk about this any more than we already had. And I mean, there really wasn’t anything to be done to stop the inevitable. Uncle Randy was probably over at their house this very moment, which meant Connor would be in the loop soon enough. </p>
<p>Instead of letting myself get consumed with the panic over <i>him</i>, I focused on the sadness rising up in my chest as the night drew to a close. The thought of leaving my sister again was harder than I’d expected. The kids would be difficult too, but honestly it seemed like they were gonna be coming back to the station with us at this point.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay,” my sister called out, holding her hands down for her kids. “The FBI has to get back to work. They’re solving a very important case.”</p>
<p>“I’m helpin’ them, mommy,” Wyatt informed her, crossing his arms and crowding back against Morgan’s legs. He and the others laughed as Aubri rolled her eyes, skirting forward and scooping him up <i>just</i> as he’d turned to make a run for it. </p>
<p>“Sorry, bud,” she sighed, giving her toddler a bemused smile. “Not tonight. You need to at <i>least</i> finish kindergarten, and then we can talk about your recruitment.”</p>
<p>As he pouted in my sister’s arms, I saw Morgan duck into the van and reappear with one of the toy badges we kept with us. Normally for kids of victims and witnesses, but in this case, he was saving my sister from a night of an angry toddler. </p>
<p>“She’s right, little man,” he said, ruffling his hair apologetically. “But I’ll tell you what. You get through all your schooling and be good to your mom and your sister, and I bet we’ll have a spot on the team for you.”</p>
<p>Wyatt’s eyes doubled in size as Morgan pinned the badge to his uniform. As the others laughed and said their goodbyes, I turned and looked for the quietest members of the group. </p>
<p>Reid and Katie were back by the SUV, both scribbling things down on paper Reid had torn out of his notebook. As Aubrianna called for her again, they exchanged sheets and Reid turned to her, a smile on his face that she mirrored. </p>
<p>“Once you finish those, tell your Aunt and I’ll find some more you should read,” he promised her. To my surprise, Katie wrapped her arms around Reid’s waist and gave him a quick hug. He seemed caught off guard – and for a moment I thought he’d try to pull out of the unexpected touch – but he let her linger, actually patting her shoulder when she pulled away. </p>
<p>“Thanks Spencer! Bye!” she exclaimed, clutching the paper to her chest as she turned to race and give me a hug. I scooped her up into my arms and managed to hoist her onto my hip as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Reid caught my eye and, at the thankful smile I gave him, he returned a toothy grin that had the butterflies somersaulting in my stomach. </p>
<p>“Bye Auntie Aria,” my niece murmured as she buried her face into my neck, holding tight to me. </p>
<p>“Bye Katie-cat,” I said softly, carrying her to her mom. Aubri jerked her head towards her car, asking me to follow her. The team called goodbye to them as we headed across the parking lot. </p>
<p>Katie reluctantly let go and, as I sat her down, she gave me a last tearful hug around my waist before crawling sadly into the backseat. Wyatt wriggled out of Aubrianna’s arms and into mine to get his own goodbye hug. </p>
<p>“Will you come back soon?” he sniffed, big blue eyes shining with tears as he stared up at me. I kissed his forehead and nodded. </p>
<p>“I will, kiddo. I promise.”</p>
<p>“Maybe we can even go visit Auntie instead,” Aubrianna suggested, wrangling Wyatt from me to stuff into his car seat. Both kids perked up at that.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you can come see the FBI headquarters, and I bet Spencer would take us to some really cool libraries,” I told them. The kids flew off into excited chatter as Aubri shut the door. She turned to me, and I was surprised to see tears in <i>her</i> eyes. </p>
<p>“We really do need to see each other again soon,” she sniffed, tugging me into a tight hug. I clung to my big sister, burying my face into her shoulder as I nodded. “I really miss you, goober.”</p>
<p>“I miss you guys too,” I sniffed, blinking quickly and pulling away to try and keep from crying. “Hell, you were right. Come out for my graduation in May. The kids will be on break and I’m sure I could get a few days off to spend with you guys.”</p>
<p>“It’s a plan,” she promised, and just as she always used to, she cupped my face with her hands and then tucked my curls behind my ears. “I love you, sweets.”</p>
<p>“Love you even more, Aubs,” I said, getting one last hug from her before she got into the car. I stood back and waved to them as she pulled out and headed home. The sadness in my chest settled a little heavier as I watched her drive away. I really did miss her and the kids; being away for as long as I was had been tough. </p>
<p>But, I had the summer to look forward to, and I didn’t feel as lonely as I had when I’d boarded the plane to Seattle. My team was waiting for me, and really, they were just as good as family too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed meeting Aria's family! I know this chapter is a little slow but trust me when I say you'll really love the next one! I love ALL of you for taking the time to read this story! The last month has been super rough for me and this story is what gets me through it. Having all of you reading and supporting this honestly means so much to me!</p>
<p>If you can take the time to leave a comment, I'd love hearing your thoughts! Your guys' comments totally make my day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Full-Blooded Italian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x04 - Children of the Dark</i>
</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/618474241359233024/chapter-9-is-up-now-read-ao3-ffnet">Aria's Outfit &amp; Family</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well, look who it is!” a familiar voice said as I followed Hotch, Emily, and Reid into the station the next morning. One of my childhood friends stood by the Sheriff’s desk, his trademark goofy grin splitting his face as we locked eyes for the first time in years. </p>
<p>“Rhett!” I laughed, skirting the others as we rushed to one another. He ducked a hint and I threw my arms around his neck. He spun me around in a tight hug, and as he sat me down I took in his uniform. “Woah, you’re an officer?” </p>
<p>“Sure am,” he said, proudly patting the badge on his chest. “And what about you? When’d you join the FBI?”</p>
<p>“Oh, a few months ago,” I started, cutting off when I remember the others behind me. I snapped my manners into place and introduced, “Rhett, these are some members of my team. Agent Hotchner, Agent Prentiss, and Dr. Reid. Guys, this is my old friend Rhett Wallace.”</p>
<p>“With the Jefferson Sheriff’s department,” he said, tipping his head respectfully as he shook their hands (and gave Reid another nod in lieu of one). “Sheriff said you didn’t need our assistance, but he wanted me to come bring you some extra files that might help out.”</p>
<p>“We appreciate the offer,” Hotch said, glancing over them as he began to inch towards the conference room, nodding to me in understanding as I caught his eye. “Aria, when you’re ready.”</p>
<p>“Yes sir,” I said with a smile in silent thanks for letting me chat with my friend. Once the rest of them had piled into the room, I turned back to Rhett. “I honestly can't believe I’m seeing you here as an <i>officer</i>!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that rock band thing I had goin’ on didn’t really pan out,” he sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his short, sandy hair. “It was a sad day, havin’ to shave off the mane.”</p>
<p>“My heart breaks for your luscious locks,” I snickered, thinking back to the shoulder-length mop he’d once treasured. As we smiled at one another, a concerning thought popped into my head. “So, my Uncle asked you to come down here?”</p>
<p>Rhett cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. </p>
<p>“Bein’ honest, I kinda begged for a reason to come see you. He got back to the station yesterday and I overheard him talkin’ about you. Had to come see Little A for myself. You let your sister know you’re here?”</p>
<p>Rhett had grown up with my family. He’d actually been best friends with Jude since first grade, and was practically another brother to me. After he passed, he got closer to Aubri and I. In fact, judging by the look on his face and the tone of his voice, I was willing to bet he still had his schoolboy crush on my sister. </p>
<p>“Yeah, actually. We went out to eat last night.” As he nodded, I asked slyly, “you say in touch with her much?”</p>
<p>Yep, there it was. Another neck-scratch and just the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks as he gave a meek nod. </p>
<p>“Just saw her the other day, actually. She helped my sister buy a house. Still the best realtor in Denver, if you ask me.”</p>
<p>“Oh, she is. I’m glad you guys are still close,” I admitted, and this time got an honest smile from him. “Hey, I probably shouldn’t keep my team waiting. But look, here’s my number -” I took a pen from the desk beside us and scrawled it on a sticky note. “Keep in touch, okay? Aubri’s coming out to Virginia this summer and maybe we can swing something with you too.”</p>
<p>Rhett pocketed the number and pulled me into a swift hug, squeezing me tight for a few moments before stepping away. He paused at the door of the station and gave me a parting smile. </p>
<p>“You got it, A. Take care of yourself now, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Of course. You too, Ratigan,” I teased, earning a deadpan frown from him before he slipped out of the station. Our group was a sucker for nicknames and, once Jude and Aubri found out I thought his name was <i>Rat</i> not <i>Rhett</i>, they’d instantly dubbed him <i>Professor Ratigan</i>. Rhett had never forgiven me for getting him stuck with what he considered the worst nickname of the group; he still refused to watch <i>The Great Mouse Detective</i>.</p>
<p>Knowing the team was waiting, I hurried back to the conference room. Morgan and JJ were there as well, gathering papers with the rest. Reid glanced up as I came to his side and motioned to the outer office, where the rest of the officers were gathering. </p>
<p>“We’re going to give the profile, at least what we have of it, to see if we can help generate some leads.”</p>
<p>With a nod, I followed the team into the group of waiting officers and hung back, knowing I was nowhere near qualified to give a profile with the others. Lt. Nellis joined us a moment later, stack of papers in his hands. </p>
<p>“I can hand those out for you,” I offered, hopeful for something to do. He gave me a smile in thanks and passed them off; I immediately began weaving through the officers.</p>
<p>“We’re looking for two men. Probably white, given the neighborhoods that they hit. Mid to late twenties, intelligent, and organized,” Hotch announced to the others. </p>
<p>“These are career criminals,” Morgan continued as I skirted the crowd, passing papers as I went. “One or both has done hard time, but neither presents as a convict. They would appear clean-shaven, well dressed...”</p>
<p>“Neighborly. This helps them talk their way into the homes,” Emily added. “They may also be using a ruse.”</p>
<p>“What kind of ruse?” Lt. Nellis prompted, taking a paper from me as I continued my rounds. </p>
<p>“Given that the invasions have taken place in the evening, it could be anything. Door-to-door sales, person in distress, car trouble.”</p>
<p>“Derrick Todd Lee used a tape of a baby crying to get women to open their doors in Baton Rouge. Never underestimate their creativity,” Reid explained; I caught his eye and gave a quick, small smile to encourage him. I knew speaking up in front of large groups was something he hated doing and wanted to give him as much assurance as I could. </p>
<p>“Miss DiMaggio is passing out a list of places where he might have access to the drug he uses. It’s long, but –“</p>
<p>“Hotch,” JJ said quickly, rushing to our gathering. All of us paused and turned to look at her expectantly. “There’s been another one and they’re sending an ambulance.”</p>
<p>“Ambulance?” I asked in surprise; Hotch came up to my side with a knowing expression.</p>
<p>“There’s a survivor.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Morgan was out of the SUV the second I put us into park, heading up to the latest crime scene instantly. Time was of the essence, and with a survivor we wanted to make every second count. </p>
<p>As Hotch and I hopped out after him, Hotch’s cell phone rang. I followed behind him as usual, listening as he told Garcia to inform the next of kin. We jogged up the steps of the house and as we skirted inside I nearly collided with Morgan. </p>
<p>He stood in the doorway, staring down into the living room. I managed to keep the gasp of horror to myself but immediately diverted my eyes. I still wasn’t totally used to seeing bodies, and knowing that their own children had witnessed what led to this...</p>
<p>“Kid’s in his room down the hall,” Morgan said quietly. My stomach churned.</p>
<p>“How old?” Hotch asked. </p>
<p>“Seven.”</p>
<p><i>Same age as Katie</i>, I realized, heart fluttering painfully in my chest. For a heartbeat, Hotch’s hand rested on my arm and then he shifted further inside, just a hair into my line of sight. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to block the view from me. </p>
<p>“Interesting. They left the flowers alive,” he murmured. “And the bodies look like they were moved post-mortem.”</p>
<p>“The daughter had blood on her when they found her, didn’t she?” I asked, finding my voice. Morgan nodded and added,</p>
<p>“She probably came out here when she woke up, and found them like this.”</p>
<p>“You open your door and next thing you know, everyone you care about is gone,” Hotch said, shaking his head before heading further into the house. Morgan and I lingered for just a hair, and my eyes dropped to the bodies again. </p>
<p>“If it were me, I’d want to be gone too,” I said softly; Morgan rested a hand on my arm in understanding and turned me gently, leading me in after Hotch. As we made our way down the hall, two more officers came by carrying a small, child-sized body bag. I pressed my lips together to keep my composure, heart wrenching at the thought of that poor little boy. </p>
<p>“Why don’t you check the family room?” Hotch suggested, nodding to the room off to our right. “We’ll take the bedrooms.”</p>
<p>“Got it,” I said quietly, rushing ahead and skirting aside into some privacy. For several heartbeats I just stood still, my mind taking a second to compartmentalize what was going on. Aubrianna’s face flashed in my mind, then Katie’s, then Wyatt’s. Just before I opened my eyes again, I saw Jude staring back at me. </p>
<p><i>Focus</i>, I told myself, taking a deep breath and forcing my eyes open. I brought my mind back to the here and now and threw myself into being as useful to the team as I could be. We were going to put a stop to these murders. I couldn’t let another family be torn apart. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Do you know this address?” Hotch asked without warning from behind, scaring a squeak out of me. I whirled so fast I nearly fell onto the table, startling Reid in the process as I turned to stare up at him incredulously; when had he gotten back!? For a tall, brawny man he was impressively quiet when he wanted to be. </p>
<p>“Can you make some noise next time?” I gasped out. For just a moment I could’ve sworn I’d seen the beginnings of a smirk on his face. The possibility he’d done that on purpose didn’t escape me. </p>
<p>“The address?” he prompted, raising a brow. Hand on my chest to calm myself as I gave him a final suspicious side-eye, I took his phone and studied the text Penelope had sent him. </p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s just down the street from the elementary school,” I told him, handing it back. He motioned for Reid and jerked his head for us to follow. “What’s going on?”</p>
<p>Since coming back from the latest crime scene, Reid and I had been knee-deep in piecing together the clues Penelope had been fishing out for us. Emily and JJ were with the surviving victim interviewing one half of the team we’d managed to find, and Morgan was still at the crime scene. Hotch <i>was</i> out looking for the other half of the murdering duo but apparently he’d gotten back sooner than expected… </p>
<p>“Morgan and Garcia found the name of the second UnSub, and it seems he’s going after his old foster family. We need to try and beat him to the punch,” he explained, making a bee-line for the SUV; he threw me a pointed look over his shoulder as I scampered around the table. “I’ve got a patrol unit heading there now but we need to back them up. How quickly can you get us to that address?”</p>
<p>“How quick can you get in the car?” I teased as Reid fell into step with us. The three of us piled in and I floored it, rocketing out of the station parking lot at record speed. Though both men gripped the door handles with white-knuckled holds, <i>this time</i> they didn’t complain as I wove us through Denver traffic. Hotch caught us up to speed – about what Emily and JJ had gotten from Carrie about Ervin, about what Morgan and Garcia had found about Ervin’s foster brother Gary – and with every word he said I added another mile to my speed. </p>
<p>We skid to a stop not even ten minutes later, a patrol car doing the same behind us in the next moment. Hotch was out of the car before I’d even thrown us into park. Reid was hot on his tail so I scrambled out and raced after them as quickly as my short legs would carry me. </p>
<p>“What is all this?!” A woman shouted to us as she came out onto the porch of the house. Hotch took the lead for us and threw back, </p>
<p>“We have reason to believe that your old foster son Gary may be on his way here to hurt you.”</p>
<p>“Me? I don’t understand –” she began as we gathered on her porch. </p>
<p>“These murders are a rehearsal of what he wants to do to you,” Reid said quickly; we were pressed for time and every second counted. </p>
<p>“That’s preposterous!” she scoffed, giving us all incredulous looks. “Why would he –”</p>
<p>“It’s because of what you did to him in this house,” Hotch argued back, his minimal patience already running short with her. </p>
<p>“I have no idea what you’re talking about –”</p>
<p>“Ma’am, we don’t have time to debate this,” I cut in before Hotch flew off the handle with her. He gave me a quick nod, taking the heartbeat I’d bought him to pull himself into check before adding, </p>
<p>“The fact is, you and your husband are in danger.”</p>
<p>She looked between all of us, taken aback, like she was trying to pretend we didn’t know all we did. </p>
<p>“I - I have to pick up the children from school –”</p>
<p>“We’ll arrange for that,” Hotch dismissed. She went to argue again so I stepped forward. </p>
<p>“Look, the only way we can protect you is if you go back inside.” She opened her mouth to argue and I softened my expression a hint. “Please.” </p>
<p>She gave me a haughty scowl, and in the next moment Reid stepped up to my side, hands in his pockets, scowl of his own to match hers. He flicked his brows up and tilted his head towards the door, backing me up. She huffed and turned, stalking into the house and slamming her door. Hotch met my gaze; I rolled my eyes and to my surprise he did the same. </p>
<p>Protecting someone like her from the karma she had coming wasn’t ideal, but we didn’t have a choice. </p>
<p>“Aria, Reid – Garcia said that Gary and Ervin spent most of their free time at a local donut shop. Swing by and see if you can get eyes on him. I’ll go pick up the kids. Stay together.”</p>
<p>“Got it, boss man,” I said as Reid voiced his understanding. Hotch headed for the patrol car as I led Reid and I back to the SUV. Neither of us spoke as I took off, weaving us through the streets. The donut shop was almost fifteen minutes out – closer to Arvada than Cherry Creek – and there was only so fast I could go with a stoplight every damn block. </p>
<p>Reid’s phone went off, scaring both of us in the silence, and we chuckled nervously as he answered. “Hey, Hotch. No, we’re about –” he glanced at me in question.</p>
<p>“Five minutes, give or take,” I said loud enough for me to be heard on the other end. The light finally turned green and I stepped on it, hoping to catch the next one as well. </p>
<p>“Got it. We’ll call you when we get there,” he said as he hung up. To me, he added, “Hotch said the kids were picked up. It sounds like Gary.”</p>
<p>“So we need to hurry,” I replied, pressing down on the gas pedal a little more. We whizzed through a light at the last second and Reid made a noise of alarm. “What? It was yellow!”</p>
<p>“That was definitely red,” he disagreed; I scoffed as we pulled into the parking lot of the donut shop. </p>
<p>“A dark orange, maybe, but not red.”</p>
<p>Reid gave me a dubious look as I parked us and turned my attention to the shop. From this far I couldn’t make out who was sitting inside. Reid turned and fished a bag out from under the backseat, pulling out a set of binoculars. </p>
<p>“Really?” I asked in surprise as he lifted them up. “Why do you –”</p>
<p>“We keep some vital things in the cars, just in case. You never know when you’ll need to stake out a donut shop,” he hinted. I snorted and shifted back to keep out of his way. “He’s there.”</p>
<p>Reid passed me the binoculars as he tugged out his phone and hit redial. I spotted Gary immediately, and my heart skipped a beat seeing a young kid sitting across from him. How much danger was that kid in?!</p>
<p>“We got him,” Reid said quickly. “He’s at that donut shop, alright.” </p>
<p>He tapped my arm and mouthed, <i>kids</i>?</p>
<p>“Just the boy,” I reported, and he said to Hotch,</p>
<p>“The boy’s with him but we don’t see the girl –”</p>
<p>Three knocks on the SUV window almost pulled a scream out of me for the second time that afternoon. I gave a start and dropped the binoculars into my lap, looking down in bewildered alarm at the little girl on the other side of the door. </p>
<p>“Are you the police?” she asked. Reid nodded quickly as I rolled down the window. </p>
<p>“Yeah, we are. Are you okay?” I asked her; in answer, she held out a piece of paper to me. </p>
<p>“He told me to give this to you.”</p>
<p>I unfolded the paper and held it between Reid and I so we could both read it.</p>
<p>
  <i>If you come in I’ll kill him</i>
</p>
<p>He and I shared a look of disbelief as Reid said slowly, </p>
<p>“We uh, we might have a problem, Hotch.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Reid put a hand on my arm to inch me back behind the side of the SUV again, keeping me out of sight from the donut shop as I settled my vest on me. More and more cop cars swarmed the lot. SWAT was already up on the roof, and we were awaiting orders from Hotch on our next move. </p>
<p>“Keep back, just in case,” Reid instructed, putting himself at the end of the SUV now instead, angled between me and the chaos. A small flutter of warmth rose up in my chest. It was kind of nice, having him look out for me. </p>
<p><i>Focus, Aria</i>. </p>
<p>We heard tires crunching behind us, and I let out a breath of relief as the patrol car with Hotch inside finally arrived. He hopped out, already tugging his own vest on, directing the officers nearby to stand back. </p>
<p>As he came up to us, I pulled the note from the little girl out of my pocket and held it out to him. He took it and crowded Reid and I further behind the SUV as he read it.</p>
<p>“I got sharpshooters linin’ up,” Lt. Nellis announced, joining our gathering; Hotch was already shaking his head as he passed the note back to me. </p>
<p>“Tell them to keep their safety’s on. I want to talk to him first. Aria,” I looked back from the shop and Hotch handed me his cell phone. “Get the shop owner on the phone.”</p>
<p>After a quick search of the number, I called the shop and followed Reid and Hotch around the SUV, staying back behind them just in case. </p>
<p>“Uh h-hello?”</p>
<p>“Hi, this is the FBI. Are you the shop owner?” I asked quickly. </p>
<p>“Y-yes, I am. What do -”</p>
<p>“Just hang on a sec,” I said gently, and tapped Hotch’s arm as I held up the phone. “I’ve got him.”</p>
<p>As Hotch talked to the UnSub, Reid and I took turns looking through the binoculars. Gary had the poor kid held against him, acting as a shield. The terror on his face was unmistakable. I passed the binoculars to Reid just as Hotch hung up the phone. </p>
<p>“What’d he say?” Lt. Nellis asked quickly; Hotch turned to me, urgency in his sharp eyes. </p>
<p>“Aria, of the officers here, you’re the least imposing and the least likely to trigger a reaction from Gary. I need you to go grab Todd when he comes out. Get him out of the line of fire and to the SWAT van. We’ll have you fully covered the entire time. Do you feel comfortable doing that?”</p>
<p>“Yes sir,” I told him instantly, heart leaping into my throat at the thought of actually getting to help out. Granted I was going out into the firing line, right in the path of the UnSub... but I could help that poor kid. </p>
<p>Reid and Hotch drew their guns and nodded at me as I rushed to the front of the building. I kept back from the windows until the door opened, and the terrified boy slowly came outside. </p>
<p>“Todd, hey,” I said calmly, scurrying forward, heart practically stopping when I realized I was directly between the Unsub and the SWAT’s line of site. Todd rushed to me and I turned, putting my back to Gary and keeping Todd safely tucked in the shelter of my vest. “Come on, it’s okay. Let’s go!”</p>
<p>He clung to me as I rushed us aside, making a beeline for the SWAT van. One of the officers took hold of Todd to pull him aside as Hotch and Reid swarmed towards the building. As they passed, Hotch nudged me back behind the corner of the building and Reid slipped in front of me. The bell above the door rang again and I turned in time to see Gary slowly walking out. </p>
<p>Just as he glanced at me, Hotch and Reid were between us. Instantly I gathered closer to them. <i>I really need a gun of my own</i>, I lamented, thankful both men in front of me had theirs drawn. SWAT rushed him and Gary dropped to his knees…</p>
<p>After all that, he was just giving up?</p>
<p>“Something’s not right,” I said slowly. Hotch was already halfway across the parking lot to talk with Lt. Nellis, but Reid glanced down at me and nodded in agreement. </p>
<p>“That was too easy, even for an expert negotiator like Hotch.”</p>
<p>I went to answer when the man himself beckoned us over. As soon as we were within earshot he said, “I need you two to stay behind and help the officers get things wrapped up here. We’ll meet back in the station in a few hours.”</p>
<p>Reid nodded, immediately falling into step with Lt. Nellis as they headed for the donut shop. As Hotch moved to follow the others and escort Gary to the station, I snagged his sleeve and tugged him back. He glanced down and I gave him a look of concern. </p>
<p>“You know that something isn’t right here,” I hedged; he pressed his lips together and gave a solemn nod. “Just... be careful, okay?”</p>
<p>His lips quirked up a bit as I finally dropped my hold on him, and he gave a curt nod. </p>
<p>“You as well. Call if you need anything, and stay –”</p>
<p>“Stay with Reid. Got it,” I promised. I waited until I saw him get in the SUV, and then scurried off to the shop to find our resident genius. Reid was talking with one of the SWAT members, so I instantly went to stand with him until I heard the clerk tell an officer, </p>
<p>“ – that’s when I saw the piece. When I handed him the phone.”</p>
<p>My brows furrowed; <i>piece</i>? Gary didn’t have a gun, did he? He’d just been bluffing. I rested my hand on Reid’s arm to get his attention and he glanced down at me. </p>
<p>“Did Gary have a gun?” I asked, and he shook his head, frowning in question at the look on my face. "The clerk said he saw Gary with a piece.”</p>
<p>Concern flitted over Reid’s face and he moved past me towards the clerk. </p>
<p>“Did you say <i>piece</i>?” he clarified; the clerk glanced at him and nodded. </p>
<p>“A revolver of some sort. It was stuck in his pants.”</p>
<p>Reid turned back to me and I shook my head as I said, “Hotch didn’t find anything when he did the pat down.” I turned to the officer interviewing the clerk. “Did you recover anything here when you came in?”</p>
<p>The officer shook his head; Reid was already calling Hotch. He stepped outside and motioned for me to follow him as he quickly filled in our boss about the latest discovery. </p>
<p>“Yeah, Hotch, we’ll call them,” Reid assured as he glanced down to me. “Aria, can you call Morgan and Prentiss? Hotch thinks the gun might be in Todd’s backpack.”</p>
<p>“Oh no,” I said quickly, tugging out my phone and dialing Morgan’s number. He answered on the first ring and I instantly put him on speakerphone for all of us to hear.</p>
<p>“Hey sunshine, everything good?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” I said, and I heard him make a noise of concern. “Did you drop the kids off yet?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, we’re just about to leave. What’s goin’ -”</p>
<p>“Did you check the kid’s backpacks?” I rushed, sharing a worried look with Reid. </p>
<p>“Backpacks? No, why? Why would we check the –”</p>
<p>Two gunshots went off in the background; I gasped and nearly dropped the phone. </p>
<p>“Morgan? Morgan!” I panicked, clutching my phone. My heart was stuttering with each moment that passed with no answer. Until finally –</p>
<p>“Gotta go,” he rushed, and the line went dead. Slowly I lowered my phone and looked up at Reid. He had the same panic-stricken face that I did. </p>
<p>“He spoke,” I began slowly, tucking my phone away with shaking hands. “That means he’s good, right? He and Emily are good? And the kids…”</p>
<p>“I – I don’t know,” Reid stammered, just as shaken. “Hotch, did you – yeah, Morgan answered but the call dropped – okay. We’re on our way.”</p>
<p>Reid hung up and jerked his head towards the SUV. </p>
<p>“We’re closest, just in case they need backup,” he called over his shoulder as I raced after him, already tugging the keys out and planning our route. Just as I jumped behind the wheel, though, my phone started ringing. I was so relieved to see the name on the caller ID I nearly dropped my phone trying to answer. </p>
<p>“Morgan!” I breathed, slumping against the steering wheel. Reid let out a groan of relief. “Please tell me -”</p>
<p>“We’re good, sunshine. We’re all good. Everyone’s A-OK,” he promised; he sounded out of breath and rattled, but okay. I could hear Emily in the background, just as okay as he was. <i>They were okay</i>. “Sorry ‘bout that. We’re headin’ to the station now. See you in a few?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, see you there,” I said, giving a shaky laugh before hanging up. I dropped my phone to my lap and thunked my head back against the seat. Reid and I glanced at one another, both looking so relieved we could cry. The two of us started giggling as I pulled out of the parking lot; by the time we reached the station we were wiping tears out of our eyes. </p>
<p>Talk about one hell of a day. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Emily and I shared an annoyed scowl as I passed her the box of files for the case. Morgan met my eyes and smirked, putting a hand over his heart and mouthing <i>touched</i>.</p>
<p>Again. </p>
<p>I’d made the mistake of telling him how worried I’d been when the call dropped. It had been stupid, thinking it wouldn’t go straight to his head. </p>
<p>“This is the last time I ever show compassion towards you,” I informed him, dusting my hands off; Emily purposely bumped his shoulder as she headed out to give the box to Lt. Nellis. Reid and Hotch, at the table behind us, stifled their laughter. “Next time, I’m turning my phone off and I’ll just assume the worst.”</p>
<p>“Did you cry or were you just <i>misty-eyed</i>?” he asked me, slinging an arm over my shoulder and leaning against me, pressing his cheek to mine. I felt him smirk, and he dropped his voice to ask, “did you and pretty boy hug each other in the heat of the moment?”</p>
<p>My face instantly began to burn and I shoved him off me, smacking his arm away when he reached to rope me in again. As subtly as I could, I glanced over my shoulder and relaxed just a hint when I saw Reid still absorbed in gathering notes from the table. </p>
<p>“Shut up,” I scoffed, ignoring the smug grin that had spread over his face as I turned back to him. He knew exactly what I’d been checking for. “Go make yourself useful and let me finish cleaning up.”</p>
<p>“Sure you don’t want my help? Aren’t you afraid to let me out of your sight, in case something else happens to me?”</p>
<p>Muttering under my breath, I shoved him away from me, trying to shoo him towards the door. He turned to face me as he backed out of the conference room, wiping away fake tears, and on reflex I flipped him off. </p>
<p>He feigned wounded as he let the conference room door shut. Emily snorted into her coffee and the two of us shared a grin as I turned to continue dismantling the evidence board. As I turned to set the next pile at Reid’s elbow, my phone buzzed in my pocket. </p>
<p>
  <i>From: Aubri<br/>Mom &amp; Dad incoming. Just left my house and dad’s pissed. Got about 5 minutes.</i>
</p>
<p>My stomach dropped as I scanned the text two more times, hoping I’d just read it wrong. Nope; I was in for an unwanted family reunion. The universe must’ve really hated me being back in Colorado, and it was doing all it could to remind me why I’d run off as soon as I got the chance. First Uncle Randy, possibly Connor, now my parents… </p>
<p>I tried to push my nerves to the back of my mind. We were nearly done and if I played up needing to get to the airport before rush hour... Maybe mom and dad would get caught in traffic and we’d get in the SUV’s before they pulled up. I picked up my speed, tugging the pictures and papers off the evidence board so fast I almost knocked it over twice. </p>
<p>“Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>Surprised, I glanced over and found Reid standing at my shoulder, watching me rip things down with mild concern. I gave an apologetic grimace and sighed, dropping my hands. For a moment I was dreading trying to explain why I was panicking; I was an adult who was scared to see her mom and dad. How ridiculous was that?</p>
<p>But, much to my relief, Reid already knew the backstory. And when I simply told him, “My parents are coming to the station to see me”, he understood instantly. He gave a sympathetic grimace as I tried to play it off.  “It can’t be too terrible. We’re in public so there’s only so much of a scene they can cause. The Mayor of Arvada can’t be seen yelling at his estranged daughter. That’d look bad, with the election coming up and all.”</p>
<p>My tone came off a lot snarkier than I’d meant, but I just couldn’t help it when it came to my parents. Reid chuckled as I rolled my eyes. </p>
<p>“I know it’ll be unpleasant for you,” he said, stepping up to help me clear the board. “Is there anything we can do to help?”</p>
<p>“Honestly, no,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair to push it back from my face, turning to finish packing up papers on the table. “My goal is to get them to leave as soon as possible, and with as little interaction as I can squeak by with.”</p>
<p>“Who?” Emily asked, face furrowing into a frown as she looked up from her seat at the table. I made a face. I hadn’t wanted to make a big thing out of this but if I was being realistic, we weren’t leaving before they got here. I’d inherited my crazy driving skills from them and they were probably pulling up as we spoke. </p>
<p>“Parents. It’s… a long story. But trust me when I say it’s best for everyone if they leave as fast as possible.”</p>
<p>“I definitely understand that,” Emily assured as the conference room door opened. Alarm spiking through me, I snapped my gaze over my shoulder and relaxed seeing it wasn’t mom and dad. Yet. </p>
<p>“Ay, we can just get out of here before they get here,” Morgan suggested; he must’ve overheard. He was strolling back in, a couple of our bags in tow, looking ready to book it on my command. I finally took a moment to glance around the room and saw the whole team – Hotch included – looking at me in concern and sympathy. I’d thought they’d all been busy with their own things, and embarrassment trickled through me realizing they’d all overheard. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to make a big deal out of this,” I told them instantly. Seriously, between my Uncle and now <i>this</i>… the team would never want to take me anywhere. It was JJ that stepped up to me and gave an understanding smile. Her hand rested reassuringly on my arm and she gave a squeeze. </p>
<p>“We all have our demons that pop up like this. Trust me, we’ve all been through it with each other.” The team voiced their agreement as she continued, “if this is a thing you have to suffer through, we want to help you.”</p>
<p>“You’re a part of the team,” Emily agreed, smiling up at me. “If you’ve got a problem, it’s <i>our</i> problem now. So how do we help?”</p>
<p>I was lost for words. These people had only known me for two months and here they were, stepping up to the plate. This whole case, they’d sensed when I was uneasy or struggling and they’d been helping me through it without a second thought. </p>
<p>I opened my mouth to thank them – and come up with a game plan – but cut short hearing the commotion outside. We all glanced out to the lobby and, low and behold, Mayor Taylor had entered the building.</p>
<p>Even though this wasn’t his town, he was a well-known public figure. He was close with the whole community of northern Colorado and the campaigns he’d been running the last few years were ridiculously popular. Namely, his fight against drunk driving. Anger prickled through me just thinking about it and I forced it down. Keeping my cool would be key. </p>
<p>I was out of time, so I’d resort to my old tactics. I’d be as disrespectful as possible until he lost his patience with me. We were in public, so he couldn’t’ fall back on any of his intimidation or screaming tactics like he did at home. And with that being off limits… well, he’d be gone quickly. I hoped. </p>
<p>“Just, well, I’m sorry for what you’re about to see,” I said quickly to them, and then looked around. “Does anyone have any gum?”</p>
<p>Morgan tossed me a piece and I stuffed it in my mouth, practically flinging myself into one of the chairs moments before dad knocked on the window of the conference room. I heard the others turning to face our newest guests as I tugged out my phone and braced my knees on the edge of the table, dropping my gaze and pretending to ignore the world around me.  </p>
<p>“Hello, hello!” Dad greeted cheerfully. I could picture the cheesy hand-wave he threw in, the pearly-white grin he flashed, all with my mom mimicking him at his shoulder. <i>Always ready for a photo op</i>. “We heard the infamous BAU was in town and I just had to come thank you all for a job well done.”</p>
<p>His stupid dress shoes squeaked as he stepped forward and the ridiculously expensive suit <i>shff</i>’d as he shook someone’s hand. It was second-nature for him to play up his “good guy” persona. Fake smile, cheery handshakes... he did everything he could to butter up the people around him. </p>
<p>“Patrick Taylor, Arvada City Mayor. Y’all can call me Rick. And this is my lovely wife Rosetta.”</p>
<p>“A pleasure,” mom said, so sugary-sweet I actually worried my blood sugar would spike. The expensive one-of-a-kind bracelet jingled on her wrist as she jumped in on the hand-shaking train.</p>
<p>“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Hotch said politely. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner and this is my team: Agents Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, Dr. Reid, and –“</p>
<p>“<i>Oh-ho-ho</i>,” dad cut in, and then I felt his eyes lock onto me. Burning into my skin, crawling over me, daring me to look up and meet his eyes. I kept myself busy sending texts to Penelope, who was more than happy to help me with my ruse. “No need for introductions here.”</p>
<p>Squeaks and <i>schff</i>’s filled the still air around us as he came further in. I fought to keep myself relaxed. A heartbeat of silence came and went.</p>
<p>“My precious daughter,” he prompted when I didn’t answer, voice nearly as sweet as mom’s. <i>Gag me with a spoon</i>. “Say hi to your old man, sugar cube.”</p>
<p><i>Trying to get a reaction with that stupid nickname</i>, I scoffed to myself, refusing to acknowledge him. I kept idly tapping away at the buttons, chewing the gum nervously but forcing myself to stay indifferent. </p>
<p>Shoulders relaxed, body at ease, even slouching just a bit further into the chair for some dramatic flair. Mom <i>hated slouching</i>, and they both couldn’t stand my sister and I on our phones instead of paying attention. We’d done this dance so many times I could see him perfectly now even without looking up. </p>
<p>The smile would be tight, forced to stay in place while he had an audience. His fingers would be twitching, itching to reach out rip the phone out of my hand like he’d done dozens of times before, his broad shoulders tensing with every second that his request passed unanswered. I could feel his blood pressure rising from here. </p>
<p>“Aria,” he said again, voice just a hint harder than before, just edged with a whisper of danger. I blew a bubble with my gum, making sure it gave a satisfying snap. </p>
<p>“Hmm?”</p>
<p>His jaw ticked, I knew it did. It always did the second I put up a fight with him. His sharp blue eyes would narrow just a hint, the smile would draw a little tighter. He’d be fighting to keep from dropping the act in front of my team. </p>
<p>“Surely you’ve got a little more for your old man, <i>sugar cube</i>,” he cooed, knowing if he poked that nickname button hard enough he’d get a response. Instead of flaring up at him, I hit him with what I knew <i>he</i> couldn’t stand. I flicked my eyes up from my phone to give him a single dismissive blink, and simply said,</p>
<p>“Hey.”</p>
<p>The smile dropped off his face for just a heartbeat. Smugly satisfied, I dropped my gaze to my screen and popped my gum again. </p>
<p>“Oh, there’s our little firecracker,” my mom soothed, knowing my dad had just been shoved to the very edge of his patience. “She gets her attitude from me. <i>Full-blooded Italian</i>,” she bragged. I could just picture her flipping her dark curls over her shoulder and she batted her eyes – probably at Morgan.</p>
<p>“I apologize, we’re just on our way out,” Hotch excused; I heard papers ruffling as the team began to mobilize.  </p>
<p>“Of course, we understand,” dad ground out, probably tacking the smile back up. “We’ll get out of your hair. It’s been a pleasure to meet you all. Sugar, you mind taking a few moments, walking your parents out?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I do mind. Thanks for asking,” I drawled, sounding as bored as I could muster. </p>
<p>There it was, the deadly silence. The peace right before the explosion. It’d terrified me as a kid; we never knew what would come next. Would he scream? Would he throw things? Would he chase us up to our rooms? The moment of calm was almost more frightening than anything he’d do after. </p>
<p>Now, though, I was okay. My team was here, I wasn’t a kid, and I wasn’t at his mercy anymore. </p>
<p>Finally, dad let out a tight chuckle. It sounded pleasant enough but I could feel it being forced through his clenched teeth. I could all but hear the vein pulsing in his forehead. He wasn’t gonna last much longer. </p>
<p>“Clever, this one,” he chortled; his shoes squeaked painfully loud as he made his way around to me. Instantly I felt everyone at the table tense and prepare to intervene. As happy as that made me, if they got involved it’d just be worse. I glanced up and quickly met Hotch’s eye, giving a subtle shake just as dad’s hand clamped onto my shoulder. “Now Aria… <i>sugar</i>… we have manners in this family. No matter your age I expect you to show respect to your elders, show your coworkers the decency you were raised with. Those core values never go away, you know.”</p>
<p>His tone was even – playful almost – but I heard the fire under his words as his fingers tightened and dug into my skin. That tone had commanded fear into me for eighteen years, and my body reacted instinctually. I set my phone on the table and straightened without even realizing I’d done it. </p>
<p>“There we are. Now, c’mon. Help your dad out and give us a hand to the car.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t a question this time, and though he played it off well he all but hauled me out of my seat. Stifling a sigh, I let myself be pulled towards the door. At this point, anything I tried to do would be ridiculous and over-the-top. Even though my team was in on my behavior, I didn’t want to practically throw a tantrum in front of them and make a scene. That’d give my parents all sorts of room to justify being awful to me and I was trying to avoid that. </p>
<p>“It was so wonderful to meet you all,” mom began, leading the way out of the room. As dad moved to follow, a hand came to rest on the shoulder my dad <i>wasn’t</i> locked onto. Hotch halted our progression and gave dad an apologetic smile. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry Aria, I know how much you want to see your parents, but while you’re on the clock I need you helping us wrap up the case.” The smile was frozen on dad’s face; his eye actually twitched as Hotch tugged me out of his hold. “I hope you can understand, Mayor.”</p>
<p>Just like Uncle Randy, dad didn’t take well to <i>anyone</i> going against him. <i>Dad’s word is law</i>. It was the first and foremost rule in our house. Though the smile stayed in place, a gleam of anger flashed through his blue eyes. </p>
<p>“Of course, of course. We don’t want to take up her time,” dad chuckled, his façade flickering back to life. He didn’t have a choice either now, he had to let me go. “Well, sugar cube, at least give your old man a hug.”</p>
<p>He roped me into his hold before Hotch or I could react and I was crushed to his chest as he squeezed painfully tight. As I not-so-subtly tried to pull myself free, he leaned down and hissed furiously in my ear,</p>
<p>“You’re not a Taylor anymore. You don’t get to use the family name for your greed. You’ll be getting a bill for dinner.”</p>
<p>When he pulled back though, giving me a placating pat on the cheek, his shit-eating smile back on his face. Mom bid a sickeningly sweet goodbye to everyone, even blowing a kiss to me as she and dad finally bowed out of the room. All of us held our breaths until they finally walked out of the station. </p>
<p>“Ho…ly… <i>shit</i>,” Morgan huffed, slowly turning to give me an incredulous stare as I deflated and practically sank to sit on the table. “Those are your <i>parents</i>?” </p>
<p>“Yep,” I sighed, scrubbing a hand down my face as I grimaced in the aftermath of what’d just happened. “I am <i>so</i> sorry about that.”</p>
<p>When I looked around the room, though, everyone looked way more amused than I’d expected. Even Hotch had the ghost of a smile on his face. JJ met my surprised stare as she laughed, </p>
<p>“I thought your dad was gonna explode. When you popped the gum –“</p>
<p>“Oh man, he had a little vein on his forehead –“ Morgan snorted and shook his head. “And was your mom <i>hitting on me</i>?”</p>
<p>“I <i>knew</i> that was you she was talking to,” I groaned, shaking my head as the nerves slowly melted away. I’d been so panicked about running into them the whole week, and even though my worst-case scenario had literally just played out in front of me, thanks to the team it was actually… <i>okay</i>. “I don’t know how you resisted her. I mean, she’s –“</p>
<p>“<i>Full-blooded Italian</i>,” Emily and I mimicked together, and the group dissolved into chuckles as we all relaxed back into packing up. I let out a breath of relief, finally fully relaxing for the first time this whole case. As I turned back to the evidence board to finish taking down the pictures I pulled my phone out and sent a quick text. </p>
<p><i>To: Aubri<br/>Thanks for the heads up. You saved lives</i>. </p>
<p>Not a heartbeat later, my sister replied:</p>
<p>
  <i>From: Aubri<br/>So? How’d it go? Everything okay?</i>
</p>
<p>As I went to reply, someone stepped up next to me. Reid didn’t say anything as he reached up and grabbed a picture that was a few inches out of my reach. He met my eyes as he handed it to me, quirking a small smile before he went back to helping Emily sort the papers. </p>
<p>
  <i>To: Aubri<br/>You know… somehow, everything’s just fine.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is one of my favorite chapters! I loved getting to introduce you to Aria's family and I hope you enjoyed this one! What do you think of her parents? Her family in general?</p>
<p>I'd love to hear your thoughts! If you've got a few moments please leave a comment and let me know what you thought! Thank you again for all your support. You guys are seriously the best readers ever!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Pillow Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x05, Seven Seconds</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Cookies are done!” I called back towards Penelope’s room as I pulled our movie snacks out of the oven. “Where’s your spatula?” </p>
<p>“Small drawer on the right, next to the fridge,” she called back, and a moment later I heard her bustling across her apartment. “Now quit avoiding my question. I want answers!”</p>
<p>Rolling my eyes, I fished out her spatula and gave her a bemused glance over my shoulder. She planted her hands on her hips and raised her brows in reply. When I still didn’t answer, she huffed and draped herself across her countertop. </p>
<p>“<i>Aria</i>,” she groaned, peeking up at me past her bangs and batting her lashes at me. “Come <i>on</i>. You can’t just tell me about a mysterious ex-boyfriend and then <i>change the subject</i>!”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay, I admit that was cruel of me,” I relented, cracking a smile at my friend as I served up the cookies. Once I’d peeled the last one off the tray, I sighed and turned to face her, leaning on the counter. “I… I don’t want to get into it much right now –“</p>
<p>“No, no, no, I <i>totally</i> get it,” she assured. “I just, you’ve only had <i>one</i> boyfriend and you’re like super gorgeous and amazing so I know there’s a reason there hasn’t been anyone else, and I’m just like, crazy nosy –“</p>
<p>“Pen,” I laughed, playfully nudging her and rolling my eyes. “Quit trying to butter me up with compliments. You’re fine. Really. It’s just… a long story. And we’re gonna have a good night, so I’m not going down that rabbit hole. But… his name is Connor.”</p>
<p>“Connor,” she said his name slowly, face scrunching up as she snagged a cookie off the plate. “<i>Ugh</i>. He sounds like a jerk.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you’re a hundred percent on that,” I agreed, grabbing the plate and following her to the couch. We dropped down and settled into the pillows as Penelope started up her projector. A black-and-white film that looked a lot like <i>Casablanca</i> started playing. “We started dating when I was in 8th grade. I was 13, he was 16. He said he’d had a crush on me for years –“</p>
<p>“Skeevy much?” she blanched, making a face as I nodded in agreement. “How long did you two date?”</p>
<p>“Just shy of five years,” I sighed, my stomach twisting with the same, sick sloshing regret that Connor always brought up. Penelope took a sip of her wine and then sat forward, waving her hand around as she asked in disbelief,</p>
<p>“Wait, okay, so you were dating a <i>sixteen-year-old</i> skeeve-pants named <i>Connor</i> when you were <i>thirteen</i> and your parents were like, okay with this? For five years?!”</p>
<p>I laughed and dropped my head back, giving my friend a wry grin as I met her shocked expression with a disgusted one of mine. </p>
<p>“Totally. Oh, they loved Connor, and still do. More than they love me, honestly. We’ve known their family for years. My dad and his dad went to high school together. He’s perfect in their eyes, practically part of the family already. If he’d have asked to marry me at thirteen, my dad would’ve marched me down the aisle on the spot. They were <i>super</i> mad when I broke up with him. Like, my dad seriously grounded me for a week. I got lectures about how I was throwing my life away if I walked out on Connor.”</p>
<p>“You are <i>kidding me</i>,” Pen breathed, shaking her head in disgusted disbelief. “What is <i>wrong</i> with those people?!”</p>
<p>“So many things. I wish you could’ve seen them on the last case,” I snorted, thinking back to the fiasco that the team <i>still</i> joked about. Pen made a noise of agreement and we fell silent after a few moments until I finally said quietly, “he cheated on me. Among other things. I told my parents all this, and you know what they said?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“<i>That’s love</i>. They told me that no one’s perfect, and I was lucky to have someone like Connor putting up with me. I needed to push past his mistakes and accept him for all the good he had.”</p>
<p>“That’s it,” Pen said, setting her glass and cookie down as she began to try and get up off the couch. “I’m finding these people, and I’m gonna – I don’t know what yet, but I’m gonna do <i>something</i>. Oh! I could send them glitter bombs. Did you know that’s a thing? You can mail envelopes of glitter to people. Some are even rigged to send it flying –“</p>
<p>“Have I told you how much I love you?” I giggled, leaning over and wrapping my arms around her, tugging her back to the cushions with me. If I let her grab her phone I was afraid she genuinely <i>would</i> do something like that. Which, okay, wouldn’t be a <i>terrible</i> idea… “Really, though. I don’t care enough about them to send my angry momma bear after them. No matter how amusing that would be.”</p>
<p>Pen shifted and wrapped her arms around me too, hugging me tight. As light-hearted as we were being, the hug settled the sadness that was welling in my chest. The wounds Connor had left still ached when I thought about them and it was nice having someone like Penelope Garcia to hug the sadness away. </p>
<p>“Well, my precious honeybee, I love you too. And if I ever see this skeevy Connor guy – <i>or</i> your skeevy parents – I’ll exact my revenge then.” </p>
<p>“Only if I’m there to see it,” I giggled. “I’m not letting you go full-on Penny G mode on my <i>anyone</i> unless I get to watch –“</p>
<p>Three loud bangs erupted from the front door. Penelope and I let out shrieks as we shrank into the couch, clinging to each other for dear life. More bangs echoed through the apartment and instantly I leapt into defensive mode. </p>
<p><i>No gun, but I can find a weapon</i>, I thought quickly, scrambling off the couch and grabbing the first thing I could find as Pen’s doorknob rattled. She was digging frantically through her purse for her phone. </p>
<p>“You call the team,” I hissed to her, getting between Pen and the door, clutching my weapon. “I’ll hold them 0ff –“</p>
<p>“<i>FBI! Open up</i>!” </p>
<p>“Wait,” she gasped, hand to her chest as she gave me an incredulous look. “That’s –“</p>
<p>“<i>Damnit</i>, Morgan!” I groaned, dropping my head back and slumping down onto the coffee table as the adrenaline came slamming to a halt. Penelope collapsed on the couch, face buried in her hands. “That’s not funny!”</p>
<p>“Well <i>I’m</i> laughin’,” he called from the other side of the door. “You two gonna let me in now that you’re done screamin’?”</p>
<p>As I sat up, I glanced back at my friend and met her furious gaze as she peeked through her fingers at me. She shook her head and I nodded in agreement. </p>
<p>“Nope. Stranger danger. I can’t trust it’s you and my boss told me to always play it safe.”</p>
<p>“Yeah? Well that same boss told me to come pick you two up ‘cause we got a case,” he called. I made a face at Penelope and she made one back. </p>
<p>“What? We didn’t get a call,” she argued; I heard Morgan sigh and try the handle again. </p>
<p>“It’s still locked,” I pointed out helpfully. I could <i>feel</i> the look he was giving the door right now. </p>
<p>“Believe it or not I pieced that together on my own, ya little gremlin. Would you two just let me in?”</p>
<p>Pen waved her hand at the door and I got up begrudgingly, undoing the lock and yanking the door open with a scowl. Morgan was grinning at me, his smile widened when he took in my appearance. </p>
<p>“I didn’t know you had <i>real</i> curly hair,” he noted, sidestepping me into the apartment. He reached out and tugged on a stray corkscrew. </p>
<p>“That’s the whole point of taking time to do my hair,” I informed him. He made a face at me. </p>
<p>“If you got natural curls why do you go curling it on your own?” I swatted his hand away as he tugged another strand.</p>
<p>“Ugh, men,” Penelope huffed behind me. I gave a pointed nod in agreement as Morgan pulled <i>another</i> curl out of my already-haphazard bun. </p>
<p>“Would you <i>stop</i> that?!” I snapped, swatting his hand away from me with the pillow I’d grabbed. Morgan glanced at it and then actually snorted. “What?”</p>
<p>“A throw pillow,” he noted, eyeing my weapon of choice. “You think someone’s breakin’ in and you were gonna fight ‘em off with fluffy pink <i>home décor</i>?!”</p>
<p>“I panicked!” I defended indignantly. “I don’t have my weapons certification yet so this was my next best option!”</p>
<p>“Right. You got a kitchen full’a knives and you pick a <i>pillow</i>–“</p>
<p>I hit him as hard as I could with said décor and he made a noise of surprise, actually stumbling back. Penelope laughed and Morgan pulled the pillow out of my hands to chucked at her. </p>
<p>“Don’t mock my weapons, Derek Morgan,” I threatened, giving him a victorious smirk. He rolled his eyes and put his hand on my face, shoving me further inside. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, don’t get cocky, sunshine. You two go get dressed, Hotch needs us to meet him at the scene.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t get a text,” Pen pointed out again as I shuffled into her bedroom, snagging my go-bag and starting to rifle for a change of clothes. </p>
<p>“Hotch got the call just as I was leavin’. It’s time-sensitive so I told him I’d swing by and grab you two on the way.”</p>
<p>Time-sensitive. My heart sank and as I gathered my clothes into my arms I peeked back out at him. The look he gave me confirmed it. </p>
<p>“Kidnapping.”</p>
<p>He nodded and jerked his head towards the bathroom. “Yeah. Get ready, kid. It’s gonna be a rough one.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“These cookies are terrible,” Morgan griped as I parked the SUV. Against his comment, though, he snaked another one out of the bag and downed the entire thing in one bite. I swatted his hand and shoved the bag into my pocket as I hopped out of the vehicle. </p>
<p>“Quit scarfing my snacks then.”</p>
<p>Morgan shrugged, licking his lips and brushing crumbs off his shirt as Penelope and I fell into step beside him. It was eerie to be at the mall this time of night, surrounded by flashing lights and panicking officers. A missing kid was a hard case any way you sliced it. I knew I’d have to face it sooner or later, but I’d really, <i>really</i> been hoping for later. Like, <i>much</i> later…</p>
<p>“There they are,” Penelope said quickly, picking up the pace as she took the lead and wove us through the crowd of uniforms. Hotch, Emily, JJ, and Reid were gathered by the entrance, all deep in discussion. JJ spotted us first and waved us over; Hotch looked up from the filing he was studying and gave us nods as we gathered. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry for the sudden notice, but I appreciate you all getting here quickly,” he said briskly, instantly turning when we reached them to lead us towards the mall. Hotch pulled the doors open and let us inside, nodding to the officer that came to greet us as he followed us in.</p>
<p>“We’ve been in lockdown for almost 20 minutes,” the officer informed us. A we gathered around, more approached and began handing walkie-talkies to Morgan, who passed them along. Reid, coming to stand at my shoulder, grabbed one from him and handed it down to me.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” I smiled, clipping it to my skirt as I turned to listen to the briefing.  </p>
<p>“Another female, same age and same location as the last victim,” Emily noted. We’d been keeping tabs on an abduction-murder from last week, and my heart sank further realizing how similar this case was to that one. I <i>really</i> didn’t want it to end the same way. </p>
<p>“What makes you think Katie Jacobs is still in the building?” Morgan asked, and the officer pointed up to the cameras above. </p>
<p>“We have those at every entrance and exit. Footage confirmed Katie entering the mall, but not leaving. Security paged her on the intercom, and their initial sweep turned up empty, but we believe she’s here.”</p>
<p>“Whoever killed Jessica Davis last week left the mall with her because he wanted time with his victim in private,” Reid noted at my shoulder. Hotch nodded and added, </p>
<p>“If it’s the same offender, he wouldn’t stray from his M.O., which means he wouldn’t leave here without his victim.”</p>
<p>“If Katie’s still under this roof, then so is whoever took her,” I realized. Hotch gave me a solemn nod and the weight of the case doubled instantly. Our leader turned to the group and started dishing out the orders. </p>
<p> “Garcia, report to the mall’s security office. Reid, Morgan, I want you to find the head of security. We’ll need all data from every search team. Aria,” he called; I stepped up and folded my hands in front of me, awaiting commands. “I want you to stay with them, help out with the search and whatever else you can do.”</p>
<p>“Yes sir,” I said instantly, stepping back to stand with Morgan and Reid. Hotch nodded and added, </p>
<p>“I want you with either Reid or Morgan at all times you’re not with me. Is that understood?”</p>
<p>“Crystal clear,” I promised. Morgan rested a hand on my shoulder and gave a squeeze. </p>
<p>“She’s good with us, Hotch. C’mon, sunshine. You and those awful cookies ain’t leavin’ my sight.”</p>
<p>“Cookies?” Reid chirped, falling into step with me as we followed Morgan through the mall. I tugged the bag out and offered them up. To my surprise, Reid fished one out and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Usually he didn’t take snacks, but apparently cookies were an exception.</p>
<p>“They’re low-carb, low-sugar,” I told him hastily, oddly self-conscious about my snacks after Morgan’s teasing. Reid, surprising me further, took another cookie as he finished off the first one. </p>
<p>“These are really good,” he told me, already starting on his next one. The smile on my face couldn’t be helped. “What did you use to make them?”</p>
<p>“Stevia instead of sugar, and I just take out the flower and use eggs and baking soda,” I explained. “And a lot of peanut butter. I love peanut butter.”</p>
<p>“That’s clever. These are delicious,” he mumbled, more to himself than me as he finished off the second one. “Morgan doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”</p>
<p>“Seems to be a trend with him,” I noted idly; he threw a glance over his shoulder. </p>
<p>“I heard that.”</p>
<p>I gave him a cheeky grin. “I know.”</p>
<p>Reid and I snickered to ourselves as Morgan led us up to a table with a handful of blueprints spread out over them. The woman manning the table looked up as we approached. </p>
<p>“Officer Jimenez?” she nodded, and Morgan held out a hand. “We’re with the FBI. I’m Agent Morgan, this is Dr. Reid, and this is Miss DiMaggio. How can we help?”</p>
<p>After nodded in greeting, Officer Jimenez turned and tapped the blueprint laying on top, motioning for us to gather around. I stepped up in front of the boys and they looked down over my shoulders as she began briefing us.</p>
<p>“There are 117 stores, 69 storage closets, 73 dressing rooms, 6 mens rooms, 6 ladies rooms, access to the roof via the north <i>and</i> south stairwells, 7 restaurants – each with separate kitchens – and 4 elevators.”</p>
<p>“Wow,” I breathed; Officer Jimenez nodded in agreement. Reid leaned a hand on the table, face coming up beside mine as he studied the prints closer. I tried not to let myself get flustered with him so close, but it was <i>difficult</i>. He smelled really good, okay?! Soft, clean laundry and a mix of old leather and the faint hint of a smooth, oaky cologne. </p>
<p>Talk about intoxicating. So much for that crush going away like I’d been willing it to the last few weeks. I snapped myself out of my thoughts and brought my focus back to the blueprints and the discussion at hand. Morgan tapped the papers and nodded at the teams around us. </p>
<p>“Get everyone a copy, each team will need them.”</p>
<p>“What are your thoughts? What are the odds we can sweep this and find her quickly?” Officer Jimenez asked nervously as she began to hand out the maps. </p>
<p>“Well, aside from the stairwells, storage closets, and hundreds of shops, there’s a whole underbelly beneath our feet too. We’re talkin’ at least three hours to cover it all, and that’s movin’ at a pretty good clip. And, realistically, we’ve got less than half that time.”</p>
<p>“How do you figure?” Jimenez asked, frowning up at him. Reid stepped up onto my other side, facts and numbers at the ready. </p>
<p>“99% of abducted children who are killed die within the first 24 hours, 75% within the first 3 hours, and when law enforcement knows, 44% of children who are abducted die within the first hour.”</p>
<p>Well, shit. I mean, I knew those statistics – we’d gone over them in class just a few weeks ago – but to hear them <i>now</i>, with a real child on the other end of those numbers… my heart dropped just a little more. I was snapped out of my thoughts when my phone started ringing. </p>
<p>“Penny, hey. What’ve you got?” I asked quickly. </p>
<p>“How fast can you guys get to the security station?”</p>
<p>I glanced at Officer Jimenez. </p>
<p>“Where’s the security station?”</p>
<p>She pointed down the hall; Morgan motioned for me to go as he told Reid to wait with Officer Jimenez. </p>
<p>“On our way. Be there in a minute.”</p>
<p>Morgan and I took off wordlessly, sliding past the other officers heading off to start searching. I pushed the door to the room open and Penelope motioned for us to gather around her. </p>
<p>“Got something off an exit camera outside the arcade,” she said, hitting a button and playing back footage for us. “It’s not great, this is really all I can see. Believe me when I say the 1980’s called, they want their security system back.”</p>
<p>“What’d you find?” I prompted, leaning closer. She tapped the screen. </p>
<p>“Look in the far right, middle section. See the pigtails?”</p>
<p>“That’s Katie,” I breathed, instantly cursing the grainy, out-of-focus video that was all but useless. </p>
<p>“And it looks like she’s with someone,” Morgan added. “You can’t enhance this at all?”</p>
<p>“I can start the process, sweetness, but we don’t have that kind of time.”</p>
<p>“Got it. Thanks, baby girl. Call Hotch. We’ll go back to the last place Katie was seen.”</p>
<p>I gave Penelope’s shoulder a squeeze before racing out after Morgan. We jogged back to the setup where Reid and Officer Jimenez were gathered, going over more blueprints. He looked up as we stopped by the table and raised his brows. </p>
<p>“Penelope found about seven seconds of footage showing Katie walking away with someone,” I explained quickly. “We just can’t tell who it was.”</p>
<p>“I wanna go back to where Katie was last at,” Morgan added quickly. “The arcade, I think. Jimenez, can you show us where she was at?”</p>
<p>Officer Jimenez nodded quickly and lead the way down another hall, rushing past other stores with the rest of us hot on her heels.  </p>
<p>“She and her cousin came in here about thirty minutes ago, and that was the last time anyone saw Katie?” Reid prompted as we walked into the arcade, looking around. I paused at his side as I asked, </p>
<p>“Ten minutes after the assault is usually the abductor’s lowest point of self-esteem, right?” Reid nodded. “So it’s possible he’s panicking right now, realizing he’s got a witness.”</p>
<p>“A witness?” Jimenez asked in surprise. Morgan nodded. “The only person with her was her cousin, and he said he didn’t see anything.”</p>
<p>“Whether or not he remembers it, he knows something important about who took Katie. He knows more than he thinks,” Morgan explained. “We gotta talk to Katie’s cousin.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Jeremy was a quiet kid. </p>
<p>He hadn’t said a word as Reid and I had led him to a quiet table away from his parents. Not that I really blamed him though. His dad had been tearing the poor kid down when we approached. Thankfully, Morgan had taken one for the team and stayed to talk with them, practically shoving us away with Jeremy before they could change their mind. </p>
<p>Reid sat at the table across from him, giving Jeremy a gentle smile to comfort him. The kid glanced up briefly and then dropped his gaze to his hands again, burrowing deeper into his hoodie. </p>
<p>“Hi Jeremy, my name’s Spencer. This is my friend Aria.” I gave Jeremy a wave, not that it mattered. He didn’t even glance at me. “We asked your mom and dad if we could talk privately. We thought it might be easier that way. Is that okay?” Reid asked. He just gave a small nod, not looking up again. </p>
<p>“Yeah. My dad… he thinks this is my fault.”</p>
<p>Poor kid. He was the last one with Katie; of course he felt guilty. But <i>he</i> was just a kid too. Hell, he was lucky he hadn’t been hurt. Reid shook his head quickly, saying gently, </p>
<p>“No, Jeremy. Your dad is just super upset right now because in times like this, people get really emotional.” Reid glanced up at me and nodded; I stepped closer and sunk down to a knee to get to Jeremy’s level. </p>
<p>“Hey, Jeremy,” I said softly. His eyes finally lifted for a moment and his tearful gaze locked onto me. I gave him a warm smile. “The moments right before a kidnapping are the most important. You’re the only one who can help us with that. The only one who can help us get Katie back.”</p>
<p>“But – but I can’t remember anything,” he started fretfully. Reid leaned in and added, </p>
<p>“That’s okay, Jeremy. All we need is the last thing Katie did or said before you realized she was gone –“</p>
<p>Jeremy began shaking his head, taking quick, shallow breaths. Panicky breathing, eyes darting between Reid and I. The scruffy man at my side glanced down to give me a questioning look. What had we said?!</p>
<p>“Jeremy, hey, what is it?” I asked quickly, concern spiking as he scrambled to get out of his chair. "Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“I can’t breathe,” he gasped, clawing at his hoodie as he continued to rasp in shaking breaths. Instantly, calm settled over me. I knew what was happening; I knew what to do. I grabbed his arms and gently pushed him back into his chair. </p>
<p>“You’re having a panic attack,” I said softly, keeping a tight hold on his arms. “Sit down, there you go. Okay, head between your knees.” I pushed his head down and held him in place with one hand as my other ran up and down his back soothingly. “Okay, there we go. Deep breaths. Can you take a really deep breath for me?”</p>
<p>His back rose quickly, and I felt him let out a shaky breath. </p>
<p>“There, good. Another one. Hold it and count to three, then let it out slow. Ready?” he took another breath, and when he let the next one out it was a little steadier. After another few he slowly sat up; tears were running down his cheeks. I couldn’t help it, I moved forward and wrapped my arms around the poor kid. </p>
<p>He instantly slid off his chair and curled against me, burrowed to my chest, shaking hands tangling into my cardigan as he cried. I held him tight to me, one arm securing him and the other running up and down his back. </p>
<p>“It’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I murmured gently. Reid met my eyes over his head and we shared a despairing look. This was <i>definitely</i> not good. </p>
<p>“I’ll call Hotch,” Reid offered softly. I nodded and watched him walk back a few feet. With a watery sniffle, Jeremy finally sat back and stared up at me. </p>
<p>“Better?” I asked him. He gave a nod and shuffled himself back into his chair. On a whim, I grabbed my bag of cookies and sat them on the table. “They’re peanut butter. Do you have any allergies?” When he shook his head, I nudged the bag a little closer. “They’re homemade. If you don’t like them, that’s okay. But I think cookies make everything better.”</p>
<p>There was a small, flickering smile that came to his face as he tentatively took one and nibbled idly. </p>
<p>“How’d you know what was happening?” he asked me finally, going for another cookie. I stood and hitched my hip onto the table as I gave a shrug. </p>
<p>“I’ve gotten them before, from time to time. My brother always helped calm me down. They can be scary, if you’ve never had them before. Are you okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” he said finally, taking another. “Thank you for the cookies.”</p>
<p>“They’re really good, aren’t they?” Reid asked, joining us again and snaking one for himself. Cue my unexpected blushing. “Hey, Jeremy. Would you mind going back to the arcade with Aria and I? We want to try doing a type of interview that works best if we’re in the same place you were at with Katie.”</p>
<p>Jeremy looked panicked for a moment, and I reached out to rest a hand on his arm. “Is that okay?”</p>
<p>He took a few more bites of his cookie and finally asked meekly, “You guys will go with me?”</p>
<p>“We’ll be right beside you the whole time,” I promised him. With a wry smile I added, “you can even take the cookies, too.”</p>
<p>Jeremy still looked uncertain, so I got to my feet and held out my hand. He stared at it for a second and I wiggled my fingers. Slowly, he reached up and took my hand, standing and stepping to my side. </p>
<p>“Okay,” he said softly. As we turned to start for the arcade, Jeremy paused and reached back, grabbing the bag of cookies. Reid met my eyes over his head again and gave me a smile.</p>
<p>So far, so good.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You guys are the best! Thank you so much for all the love with the last chapter. It totally made my week! I'm so happy you guys are liking it. I can't wait for you to read all the surprises and twists I have planned. </p>
<p>Again, if you could take the time to leave your thoughts, I'd appreciate it so much! Hearing what you have to say seriously puts a huge smile on my face and gives me motivation to write! Thank you guys for supporting the story &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Breathe In, Breathe Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i> Follows along with episode 3x05, Seven Seconds</i>
</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/619738179403186176/aria-dimaggio-hadnt-planned-on-uprooting-her-life">Aria &amp; Spencer </a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The closer we got to the arcade, the more Jeremy’s began to tremble. His hand was still tucked safely in my own and I ran my thumb over the backs of his knuckles to soothe him as best I could. Reid walked on his other side, hands shoved in his pockets, keeping a casual conversation with Jeremy. </p>
<p>“Do you go to the arcade a lot?” he asked as we finally reached the games. Jeremy paused for a second, hesitating to walk in. I gave his hand a squeeze and he took a deep breath, stepping over the threshold. He scooted closer to me, pressing his arm to my side. </p>
<p>“Yeah. I like video games.”</p>
<p>“What kind of games do you like playing?” I asked him. We paused by one of the shooter games and he nodded at it. </p>
<p>“I like D.O.A.” </p>
<p>“D.O.A.?” I repeated, tilting my head in question. To my surprise, the scruffy profiler across from me answered first. </p>
<p>“Dead or Alive.” I quirked a smile at him that he gave back as he asked Jeremy, “What do you like about that game?”</p>
<p>Finally, the kid seemed to relax a bit. We dropped our hands and he took another cookie as he smiled just a bit. </p>
<p>“The close combat. It’s all about timing, how well you know your enemies. Plus,” he spared a glance and a lopsided smile at me. “I’m really good at it.”</p>
<p>“Is this the game you were playing earlier?” I asked, and Jeremy nodded. Reid flicked his brows up at me over his head, telling me to keep going. I motioned to the game and stepped up to it. “Can you show me how to play? I’m no good at video games.” </p>
<p>Jeremy nodded and Reid reached into his pocket to pull out a couple of quarters to hand to him. His face lit up and he eagerly put them into the machine. I moved to lean against it, studying him as Reid stepped up on his other side and said slowly,</p>
<p>“Alright, Jeremy. While you play, I want you to think back to when you and Katie first came in earlier, okay?” Jeremy nodded. “Can you tell us what it sounded like in here?”</p>
<p>“It was… loud,” he said slowly, pausing his playing to shut his eyes as he thought back. “Really loud.”</p>
<p>“Were the people loud, or the games loud?” I prompted; Jeremy’s face screwed up a bit more as he concentrated. </p>
<p>“Both. Some kid was yelling at his game. Katie… didn’t like it. She said it was too loud,” he started, and then cut off as he tensed up. His face pinched together and his hands gripped the sides of the machine. Reid and I shared a quizzical look and he leaned down to ask,</p>
<p>“What’s making you so uncomfortable, Jeremy?”</p>
<p>“Katie started crying,” he answered, so quiet I almost didn’t hear him over the sounds of the game. </p>
<p>“What was she crying about?” Reid pressed, and Jeremy tensed even more. He looked on the verge of another panic attack.  </p>
<p>“I-I don’t remember. I couldn’t hear, it was too loud –“</p>
<p>“Okay, that’s fine. That’s okay. Here, let’s go back to the game,” I said quickly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nodded, opening his eyes slowly and turning his attention back to playing. Reid and I stood quietly for a few moments, letting him calm down again. </p>
<p><i>Good job</i>, Reid mouthed to me. I threw him a smile and gave a quick nod. He motioned to Jeremy and nodded, urging me to do the cognitive with him. I’d never really practiced how to do this kind of interview, but I knew the process. I could talk to Jeremy. I could do that. </p>
<p>“Tell me about earlier when you were playing.”</p>
<p>“I was winning,” he said, smile turning up his lips just a bit. </p>
<p>“How’d that make you feel?”</p>
<p>“Awesome. Proud of myself, and… kind of… embarrassed,” he rushed out, and then started nibbling on the inside of his cheek. A nervous habit; Aubrianna had the same one. </p>
<p>“Why were you embarrassed?”</p>
<p>“People were watching me…” he trailed as he stole a glance at me, and I saw a blush on his cheeks starting to rise. </p>
<p>“Why did that make you self-conscious? Who was watching? Katie?”</p>
<p>“No. I mean, yeah, but not <i>her</i>… I could smell her shampoo. She smelled really good. Like you,” he said, and then instantly started biting his cheek again as the blush deepened. Reid caught my eye, giving me a bemused smile as he flicked his brows up at me. </p>
<p><i>Ohhh</i>. A girl. Wow, I was studying to be a profiler and it’d taken me that long to piece it together? <i>Way to go Aria</i>.</p>
<p>“She was talking to me about the game. She was pretty and I was nervous,” he mumbled, this time looking up to Reid instead of me. I felt <i>myself</i> blushing. Granted, he was 13, but it was flattering he thought I was pretty.</p>
<p><i>I wonder if Reid agrees</i>, I thought before I could stop myself. As Jeremy talked to him, I got caught up in staring at the handsome doctor across from me. He was in a dark button-down shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, gray tie hanging crooked and loose. The shirt fit him better than others he’d worn, accentuating the outline of his broad shoulders that tapered down to his narrow waist... I quickly dropped my gaze and pushed those thoughts aside as I willed the blush on <i>my</i> cheeks to disappear. Jeeze, Aria, get it together!</p>
<p>“What happened then?” Reid prompted; at least <i>he</i> was fully focused. Jeremy shut his eyes again, thinking harder. </p>
<p>“Katie was crying more. She wanted to leave. She…” he cut off, biting his cheek, and then said slowly, “ice cream. She wanted ice cream.”</p>
<p>Reid and I met each other with frowns. Okay, so I wasn’t the only one thinking he was hiding something. Reid nodded at me and I leaned down a hint to ask softly, </p>
<p>“Was there something else?” Jeremy slowly looked up at me, still nibbling his cheek. He looked like he wanted to say something, but simply murmured, </p>
<p>“No. That… that was all.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” I accepted, smiling at him and resting a hand on his back. “You did really good, Jeremy. Thank you.”</p>
<p>Reid and I stayed quiet as we walked Jeremy back through the mall. Though he didn’t hold my hand he stayed at my side, walking so close to me I almost tripped over him twice. The closer we got to his parents, the slower he walked. By the time we were within earshot he’d nearly stopped completely. </p>
<p>“Everything okay, kiddo?” I asked him. Reid paused a few steps ahead and turned back to us, keeping between Jeremy and his parents. Giving us a moment of privacy. </p>
<p>“I just, uh…” he dropped his eyes for a moment and then looked up at me. There was more he wanted to say, I could tell, but all he asked was, “can I keep the cookies?”</p>
<p>A grin took over my face and I nodded at him, going to answer as someone else stepped up. </p>
<p>“Hey, you don’t need to eat those just to be nice, kid,” Morgan told him, giving a playful grin. “You can tell her they’re awful.”</p>
<p>“He likes them,” I scoffed, wrapping my arm around Jeremy’s shoulder and leading him past Morgan as he laughed, getting a smile out of the kid at my side as well. Morgan threw me a wink as I walked Jeremy to his parents. Immediately his mom came bustling up to us, bundling her son away quickly. </p>
<p>“Is that all you need from him?” she demanded. I just gave a quick nod and forced a smile before my facial expressions gave away my inner annoyance. There was a reason he had been hesitating coming back, and I was staring right at her. </p>
<p>“Yes, for now. Thanks so much. You have a wonderful son.” I looked down at Jeremy and gave him a warm smile. “You were a huge help, Jeremy. Thanks again.”</p>
<p>Jeremy gave me a quick smile before his mom all but dragged him back to the table she had been sitting at. I lingered a moment, watching him go, fighting the urge to run after him and pull him back. I didn’t have to be a profiler to realize his parents were probably a big cause of the panic attack he’d had earlier. </p>
<p>Stifling a sigh, I turned to head back to the others and nearly collided with Jeremy’s dad. It took all my self-control to keep from screaming and jumping back; my hand came up to clutch at my chest as I gave a nervous laugh instead. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting –“</p>
<p>“What took you guys so long? I thought you were just asking him a few questions,” he started slowly, his squinting eyes digging into me as I took an uneasy step back. </p>
<p>“Well, we took him back to the arcade to walk him through what happened –“</p>
<p>Instantly his arms crossed, hostility spiking in his gaze as his frown deepened. “I never gave permission for you to do that.”</p>
<p>Instant irritation prickled my skin and I fought the urge to cross my arms right back. This whole “<i>being professional</i>” thing was harder than my profiling classes. “Your wife did. It’s just a standard procedure we do and Jeremy was comfortable with it –“</p>
<p>“Next time, I expect to be informed before the FBI makes decisions for my family,” he snapped. Before I could throw anything back at him he stormed past me, shouldering me aside as he went and knocking me off balance. As I took a step back to steady myself, footsteps behind me caught my attention. To my surprise I saw Reid, Morgan, <i>and</i> Hotch crossing to me. </p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Reid asked first, his eyes flickering between my own. Before I could answer, Morgan added,</p>
<p>“Did he hurt you?”</p>
<p>Just as I opened my mouth, Hotch pressed quickly, “What did he say to you?”</p>
<p>For a few seconds I stood in silence, looking between the three men staring down at me, small smile on my face. Who needed a gun for protection when I had three hyper-observant profilers at my shoulder? </p>
<p>“Yes, I’m fine,” I assured Reid, smiling up at him in thanks as I turned to Morgan. “No, refer to my previous answer. And,” I said quickly, sensing the repeated question on Hotch’s tongue, “he wasn’t happy we did the cognitive with Jeremy.”</p>
<p>Hotch’s lips pressed together in a displeased line, eyes flicking over my head in the family’s direction. “I’ll have a talk with him. In the meantime, I’d like you to go with Morgan and Reid. The search dogs found a necklace of Katie’s, and it looks as if it were ripped off.” </p>
<p>“An abductor just wants to fulfill his urge and move on,” Reid explained to me when he noticed I didn’t get the importance behind what Hotch had said. His brows furrowed at his own words as he added, “he wouldn’t have taken the time to do that. That was motivated by rage. It was personal.”</p>
<p>My eyes widened as I pieced together what they were saying. The man who had taken the other little girl last week wouldn’t have had any personal ties to Katie. I didn’t need Reid to tell me the probability he did would be astronomical. </p>
<p>“So we don’t think this is related to the other kidnapping at all,” I said slowly; Morgan gave me a solemn nod. </p>
<p>“I’d like the three of you to visit Katie’s house to see if you can find anything that might support that theory. If it’s someone Katie knows, I’m worried it could be one of the five family members we have here.”</p>
<p>My eyes instantly looked past the others to study Jeremy and his parents. His dad met my gaze and quickly turned away. “The UnSub will sometimes insert themselves into the investigation, right?” All three men nodded. “Well then I suggest keeping an eye on Mr. and Mrs. Suspicious McGuilty-Conscious over there.”</p>
<p>Morgan snorted and when I looked at him in question, he just shook his head. “You’re spendin’ way too much time with Garcia.”</p>
<p>“Unfortunately, we can’t make accusations against someone on suspicion alone.” He paused and his frown deepened a bit more. “Regardless of how concerning their behavior is. It’s up to you three to find us something we can use to back up our assumptions.”</p>
<p>Morgan jerked his head towards the mall exit and raised his brows as he asked, “you game, sunshine?”</p>
<p>“I’m in,” I told the three of them. Hotch gave a nod, and before he went to speak with Jeremy’s dad he caught my eye and began, </p>
<p>“Remember, I want you –“</p>
<p>“With Morgan and/or Reid at all times,” I assured, giving him a nod. His lips twitched briefly to a smile. </p>
<p>“I suppose I don’t need to tell you that every time.”</p>
<p>I gave him a shrug and a warm smile. “No, but I don’t mind that you do. I’ll be careful.”</p>
<p>With an actual, brief smile this time, he turned to go confront Jeremy’s dad. As much as I liked being able to help Morgan and Reid, I <i>really</i> wished I could stay to listen to <i>that</i> conversation.</p>
<p>Once I was in step with them, the guys on either side of me led us outside. We piled into the SUV – Morgan driving this time and making a pointed comment about <i>not</i> needing to break land speed records – and I settled in the back. Reid turned to me as we pulled out of the parking lot, and he gave me a genuine smile. </p>
<p>“You did really well with Jeremy. You really got him to open up better than I could have done.”</p>
<p>There went the butterflies in my stomach again; how did he manage to get me all flustered with just one look? A simple compliment? Was I really this infatuated with him? I mean, yeah, he was <i>gorgeous</i>, and, like, totally sweet. He was crazy smart, and genuinely nice… did I mention gorgeous?</p>
<p><i>Aria. Focus</i>. </p>
<p>“Oh, thanks,” I laughed nervously, trying to play off the fact I’d been too swept up in his smile to think of something better to say. I caught what almost looked like a smirk on Morgan’s face in the rearview and added quickly, “you did most of that, though. You were great with the interview.”</p>
<p>Reid’s infectious smile grew and I found myself matching it instinctively. Feeling a blush rising on my cheeks, I ducked my head and cleared my throat as Morgan met my eyes in the rearview again. Yeah, he was totally smirking. </p>
<p>“Sounds like you two make a good team,” he noted idly; I heard the dangerous undertones of a hidden message in his words. “Pretty Boy and the Gremlin.” </p>
<p>“Whatever, Mr. Clean,” I threw back. “Oh, and by the way, Jeremy really did love the cookies, so clearly you and your taste buds are unreliable.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Or he was just bein’ nice to the pretty FBI girl,” he noted. I scoffed and smacked his arm, getting a laugh out of him and Reid. </p>
<p>“What, you’re saying he was just scarfing them down because he thought I was cute?”</p>
<p>“Aye, I never said <i>cute</i>. Trust me, guys will do a lot’a crazy things for a pretty gremlin.” I opened my mouth to give a witty comeback when he glanced at Reid and added, “ain’t that right, kid?”</p>
<p>Reid’s eyes flicked to me for just a heartbeat before he turned himself all the way around to face forward. Morgan snickered and shook his head as I let myself openly gape at the handsome doctor in the front seat.</p>
<p>Did… was Morgan saying Reid thought I was pretty? It had just been an innocent question, but… why had Reid looked at <i>me</i> instantly? Was I being way too hopeful that he liked me? I mean, there was no reason for a guy like <i>Spencer Reid</i> to be interested in <i>me</i>. Short, grumpy, awkward little curly-haired hobbit <i>me</i>, compared to the literal genius that could easily moonlight as a model on the weekends? </p>
<p>Yeah, right. I wasn’t that lucky. I didn’t get guys like Reid. I got assholes like Connor. And, more importantly, I got hurt when I let myself buy into things like this. Reid was a really sweet guy, and he was just being nice to me. That’s all it was. A crush didn’t hurt, but I couldn’t let myself get carried away. </p>
<p><i>Focus on the case</i>. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The Jacobs’ house was like something out of a storybook. Perfectly decorated, not even a pillow out of place. As Reid and Morgan led the way inside, I slowly wandered towards the living room. What we were looking for, exactly, I didn’t quite know. I didn’t see the world like profilers did just yet, but I had almost four years of psychology to tell me this house was a little <i>too</i> picturesque. </p>
<p>“They lit a fire last night,” Reid mused, drawing my attention away from the perfectly-placed photos along the walls. I pointed to a newer frame and added, </p>
<p>“They get regular family photos, too. Matching outfits and everything. Not even <i>my</i> crazy parents did that.”</p>
<p>“Dishes for three in the sink,” Morgan said as he came around the corner from the kitchen. “They even eat together.”</p>
<p>Reid stepped up to us, holding a DVD case for a <i>Scooby-Doo</i> movie. He smiled and tapped the cover. </p>
<p>“And they had a movie night.”</p>
<p>“So, these guys watch movies around a fire, eat dinner together in a perfectly decorated house in the heart of a quaint suburban neighborhood…” I trailed slowly, sharing a look with the other two. </p>
<p>“Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier,” Reid finished, clearly on the same brainwave. Morgan shook his head, meeting my uneasy gaze with one of his own. </p>
<p>“Yeah. That’s what worries me.” He let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand down his face, then looked between Reid and I. “Alright. We’re on a time-crunch. Reid, scope out the parent’s room. Sunshine, you take Katie’s room. I’ll check out the office and the garage. Holler if you find anything.”</p>
<p>With a quick nod to one another, the three of us split up. Reid and I jogged up the stairs and as I went to dip into Katie’s room, a tentative hand brushed my arm; I paused and glanced back. Reid looked uneasy, like he wasn’t quite sure what to say. I gave him a patient smile and stood silently, waiting for him to gather his words until finally he cleared his throat. </p>
<p>“Uh, I know Hotch doesn’t want you alone, so if – I’ll just be across the hall. Will you be okay?” </p>
<p>Cue those damn butterflies.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good. I’ll shout if anything comes up,” I promised, smile widening on its own. Reid nodded quickly and cleared his throat again, turning abruptly to disappear into the parents’ room. </p>
<p>Grinning like an idiot now, I slipped into Katie’s and started searching. For a moment, it was like being back in mine and Aubrianna’s room. Pink and fluffy was clearly a theme with her; everything down to her carpet was a variation of anything from blush to cerise, with all the shades in between.</p>
<p>Her comforter, a dazzling shade of barbie pink, was bunched up on the center of her mattress, and her baby-pink sheets were askew underneath. Gently, I tugged the comforter back and frowned. Katie had wet the bed last night and she’d tried to hide it. </p>
<p><i>Wetting the bed isn’t uncommon, but it can be a sign</i>, I thought to myself, turning to the rest of the room. A thorough search through her dresser and closet didn’t turn anything else up – except that she wet the bed a <i>lot</i> and took steps to hide it. I mean, being embarrassed about it was one thing, but stuffing her sheets into the abyss of her closet and burying them under toys and clothes?</p>
<p>“Find anything?” Reid asked from the doorway; I glanced over my shoulder and made a face of uncertainty. </p>
<p>“Well, she’s been wetting the bed, and she doesn’t want anyone to know.”</p>
<p>“Not too uncommon for six-year-olds,” he mused, looking around the room as I moved on to dig through her toys. “Some kids just don’t like getting up at night, they’re afraid of the dark.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Aubri was terrified. She’d wake me up and make me go with her sometimes –“ I started, trailing off as I reached the bottom of her toy basket. </p>
<p>“Aria?”</p>
<p>Slowly, I pulled the mutilated Barbie out from under the other toys and turned to Reid, staring down at it in a mixture of horror and despair. My heart – sunk as far as it could go at this point – gave a painful twist and I pressed my lips together as I held it up for him to see. </p>
<p>“Except I don’t think Katie’s afraid of the dark,” I said softly. He took the doll, frown coming onto his face as he turned it over, murmuring,</p>
<p>“Most little girls covet their dolls. They seem them as an extension of themselves.”</p>
<p>“Reid, I know these signs. Wetting the bed, destroying her toys… She’s hiding something. Something about the necklace.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re right, and I think Jeremy’s holding something back,” he agreed. We both looked up hearing Morgan coming down the hall. He glanced into the room, and Reid held up the doll. His face darkened instantly, knowing exactly what we’d come across. </p>
<p>“Katie’s in a lot of pain and not telling anyone, and I think I know why,” I said softly. Morgan nodded as he pulled out his phone, jerking his head for Reid and I to follow. </p>
<p>We had to get back to the mall. <i>Now</i>.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Jeremy looked up hearing the door open, and to my surprise he almost looked relieved to see Reid and I coming into the room he’d been taken to. Giving him a smile, the two of us pulled up chairs in front of him.</p>
<p>“What’s going on? Did you guys find Katie?”</p>
<p>Reid and I shared a glance. Knowing this was going to be a delicate situation, we’d gone over our game plan on the way back to the mall. Morgan had even thrown in some pointers, and now it was up to us to pull it off. I sat back as Reid leaned forward, clasping his hands as he studied the kid in front of us. </p>
<p>“Jeremy, how old are you?”</p>
<p>Jeremy glanced at me briefly before frowning at him. </p>
<p>“Thirteen,” he said uneasily. Reid smiled and chuckled, nodding a bit.</p>
<p>“Thirteen, yeah. When I was thirteen, I was starting to notice girls too. I was curious, but I was, ah…” he let out a laugh and ducked his head. “I was really awkward, so it was really hard to talk to them. Especially the pretty ones. Which is why I take it you’re pointedly only looking at <i>me</i> right now.”</p>
<p>Jeremy’s eyes darted to me and again I was caught off guard. Though we’d agreed to play up Jeremy’s newfound shyness with me – as we were clearly doing – hearing Reid essentially call me pretty was enough to send my mind scattering. Instantly I was back in the SUV, seeing Morgan’s smirk and Reid’s instant avoidance of me. <i>Not too far off from what Jeremy was doing now...</i></p>
<p>Okay, now was <i>not</i> the time to get into that.</p>
<p>“I found it really frustrating,” Reid pressed on slowly. Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and looked away. </p>
<p>“Why are you telling me this?” </p>
<p>“Because I think I understand you. I – I noticed it earlier. You’re in the arcade, a pretty girl walks in, and you get distracted by her, right?”</p>
<p>“I guess…” he mumbled, again glancing at me as he began to nibble on his cheek. Reid leaned back, met my eyes, and gave a quick nod. Time to pile on the pressure. I pulled my chair forward and inched a little closer to Jeremy. As we’d guessed, he leaned back this time, not as open to me as he’d been before the cognitive. </p>
<p>“It’s perfectly normal, Jeremy. It just means you’re growing up,” I started as he nibbled his cheek harder, ducking his head to let his hair fall over his eyes. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. The video games you play… they let you explore your violent side, don’t they?”</p>
<p>His arms folded over his chest and he kept his head down. When I scooted a little closer he turned away, hunching down into himself. Reid and I shared another look; he was definitely holding something back. </p>
<p>“Jeremy,” Reid said, nodding again at me. I shifted closer, so much so I was nearly brushing his leg. Jeremy pushed his seat back. “Do you know what we do for the FBI?”</p>
<p>He shook his head quickly. </p>
<p>“We study human behavior. Like, uh, how you’re moving away from Aria, the fact you won’t look her in the eye… it tells me you’re uncomfortable with what she’s asking you. Like you want to distance yourself from her. Maybe because you’re uncomfortable talking with a pretty girl –“ instant butterflies again; I tried to stay focused, “ – but I think it’s more than that, because now you’re not looking at me either. You’re afraid of what we might be reading from you.”</p>
<p>Jeremy’s eyes darted briefly to me, and when our eyes met he instantly dropped his gaze and started nibbling his cheek again. </p>
<p>“Whatever,” he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders defensively. This time Reid actually smiled a hint and he nodded at me again. I leaned in, hands clasped, ducking to catch his gaze. </p>
<p>“Case and point, you bite your inner cheek. It’s a nervous tick, almost like you’re fighting to hold something back. Like you’re doing right now. You were also doing it in the arcade, and I think it’s because you remembered something you didn’t want to tell us –“</p>
<p>“No,” he said instantly, hunching in on himself a little more. “I told you everything.”</p>
<p>Reid shared an agreeing nod with me and scooted closer. So close now our legs were resting against one another. I caught myself watching him as he gave Jeremy a knowing look, lips twisting up slowly as he shook his head. </p>
<p>“I don’t know. I don’t think you did. I think something else happened in that arcade,” he said slowly. Jeremy shook his head more and I leaned in to add gently, </p>
<p>“Something you haven’t told anyone yet.”</p>
<p>This time, when Jeremy looked up at me, there was no uneasiness or hostility. There were tears in his eyes, on his cheeks; his lower lip was trembling. </p>
<p>“I – I don’t know who took Katie. I should’ve been watching her and – and I didn’t, and it’s my fault –“</p>
<p>I moved without thinking. My hands came up and cupped Jeremy’s face, my thumbs brushing the tears off as I gave him a gentle smile. He sniffed and squeezed his eyes shut. </p>
<p>“It’s not your fault, kiddo. I promise. This isn’t on you. It’s okay.”</p>
<p>Jeremy let out a whimper and more tears fell. I moved to perch on the arm of his chair and wrapped him in my arms again. His face buried into my shirt and he held tight to my arms as he cried. The only thing weighing Jeremy down was the guilt of losing Katie; he hadn’t hurt her. Reid and I shared a look, and I nodded to him. He pulled out his phone and called Hotch.</p>
<p>“We’re good on this end,” he murmured, and slowly a frown came over his face. “What? Really? Both of them?”</p>
<p>He lowered his hand as he gave me a despairing look as his eyes flicked to Jeremy, and then back to me. </p>
<p>“They… have the UnSubs in custody and they just found Katie. She’s okay.”</p>
<p>“Thank God,” I breathed, and looked down at Jeremy. “Hey, see? They found your cousin. She’s…” Reid’s words hit me and I looked up, frowning. “Wait. Un<i>Subs</i>? Plural?”</p>
<p>His eyes dropped to Jeremy. </p>
<p>“Yeah. Plural.”</p>
<p>Oh. </p>
<p>Oh <i>no</i>.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Jeremy’s hand hadn’t left mine. He hadn’t reacted when we’d told him his mom <i>and</i> dad were being arrested. He hadn’t even shed any more tears. He was probably still processing it all, and if I was being honest, I had a feeling deep down he’d known something was off with his dad. He hadn’t even looked at him when he’d been let out. </p>
<p>This was the <i>one</i> time I wasn’t gonna brag to Morgan about being right. No part of me had wanted to be, because even though Katie was safe now, Jeremy’s entire world had been turned upside down. </p>
<p>We were standing outside with Reid, watching the scene wrap up. Jeremy was staring after his cousin, who had just been taken away in an ambulance. He was leaning against me fiddling idly with my fingers. </p>
<p>“Will Katie be okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, she will be. It’ll take time, but she’ll be alright,” I assured him softly. </p>
<p>Jeremy’s hand tightened and I followed his gaze; Emily had just led his mom out to the waiting cop car. Her eyes met his and she began to cry. I felt Jeremy tense and sniff, stoic stone-face gone, fighting to hold back tears of his own now.</p>
<p>I pulled my hand free from his and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, tucking him to my side. He leaned into my hold wordlessly, arms going around my waist as he hugged me tight. </p>
<p>“She called my mom’s name,” he whispered; Reid and I both looked down I surprise at his words. “That’s what I wasn’t telling you before. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“That’s okay, Jeremy,” Reid said, offering him a smile as Jeremy looked up at him. “It’s your mom. We understand.”</p>
<p>“You just wanted to protect her,” I agreed, rubbing his arm soothingly. He tipped his head up to me and asked softly, </p>
<p>“What’s gonna happen to me?”</p>
<p>For a moment, I was quiet, staring down at this poor kid at a loss for words. He’d just lost his mom and dad in the blink of an eye, and now…</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” I said honestly as I tightened my hold on him. “But I promise you, we’re gonna make sure you’re alright.”</p>
<p>Jeremy hugged me tight, nodding as he buried his face against my side. This time, Reid stepped up next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He met my eyes and offered up a small smile. We’d make sure Jeremy was okay, and we’d found Katie alive. Past all the other turmoil, all the chaos of this case… things were okay. </p>
<p>We’d gotten through this together. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The buzzing of my phone pulled me out of the fitful sleep I’d fallen into. Irritably, I swatted at it on the side table, mashing buttons until it stopped. With a huff, I rolled over and curled into the arm of Penelope’s couch. She gave a soft snore from the other side at my movement but didn’t stir. </p>
<p>By the time we’d gotten Jeremy settled with his Aunt and Uncle – and I’d made sure he was okay – it was too late to try and make my drive back to school. Even though we weren’t in the same spirits as before, Pen had insisted on finishing our sleepover. Mainly, she said, so I didn’t need to try and get myself home at 3am when I could barely keep my eyes open. </p>
<p>It had taken me a while to doze off and now I’d been pulled back to consciousness. Whoever it was could wait. Hotch had promised we wouldn’t get anything else until Monday and I needed my sleep. </p>
<p>Just as I started to slip into unconsciousness, my phone buzzed again. I actually groaned in annoyance, burying my face into the throw pillow and willing my phone to shut up. When it buzzed a third time, though, I let out a sigh and reluctantly propped myself up to take a look, if for nothing else than to keep the noise from waking up Penelope. </p>
<p><i>Maybe a really important case came up</i>, I thought groggily, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I sat up a little further. Except the text wasn’t from Hotch. It was from a number I didn’t recognize. </p>
<p><i>303-555-7343. Denver number</i>, I realized, concern pricking me as I opened the messages. Was it Aubri? Had something happened? Why would she be using a different number, though?</p>
<p>
  <i>From: 303-555-7343<br/>Hey. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Is this Aria Taylor?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>You there?</i>
</p>
<p>Huh. My old last name? Slowly, I sat up a little more. No one really knew me as <i>Aria Taylor</i> anymore. My parents, maybe, but they wouldn’t text me like this. I sent a quick <i>Who is this</i>? as I tried to piece together who it might be. </p>
<p><i>Okay, think Aria. Think</i>. I rubbed my eyes again and tried to shove the grogginess out of my mind. <i>Focus… focus</i>… it had to be someone I knew before graduation. Someone I didn’t talk to past my 18th birthday, that didn’t know – or care – that I’d changed my name. If that was the case, though, how did they have my number? I’d gotten a new phone after graduation, when I moved to Washington. </p>
<p>It’s wasn’t someone from my old college, they didn’t know my last name was Taylor. And if it was someone from Colorado, they’d either have gotten my number from Aubri, Rhett, or my parents. Neither Rhett nor my sister would’ve given my number out without asking me first, and I didn’t think mom and dad had my number… but, I knew how sneaky my parents could be. Dad would’ve been looking into me to find out where to send his stupid bill for dinner, and with the help of Uncle Randy, I didn’t doubt they’d uncovered my number. </p>
<p>Which meant, most likely, my parents gave my number to someone who hadn’t talked to me since before my 18th birthday. Who, though? Who would’ve gone to my parents asking for my –</p>
<p>Oh <i>shit</i>. </p>
<p>The name came to me just as my phone buzzed again. </p>
<p> <i>From: 303-555-7343<br/>Connor. Guess that means you didn’t keep my number… harsh, sugar cube.</i> </p>
<p>The instant, paralyzing panic that swept through me knocked the breath out of my body. The phone dropped to my lap as my hands grabbed the edge of the couch. My fingers dug into the cushions, rooting me into place as the ice-cold trickle of fear began to drip through my veins. </p>
<p><i>He found me. He found me. He has my number and he’s talking to me</i>, my mind screamed at me as I took short, gasping breaths. <i>Hide. Hide, hide, hide – RUN</i> –</p>
<p>Survival fight-or-flight took over. I grabbed my phone and practically sprinted to the back of Penelope’s apartment, skidding into the bathroom and shutting the door fast, spinning to lean against it and hold it closed. </p>
<p>Minutes passed in a terrifying blur as I braced for the banging, the rattling of the knob, the shouting… but it didn’t come. My body was still on high-alert, tense and rigid and braced against the door ready to fight for my life, but my mind was finally starting to click the pieces together again. </p>
<p><i>You’re okay. It’s okay. It’s just texting. He’s not here. He doesn’t know where you are. It’s okay, Aria. Breathe. Breathe</i>, I chanted to myself, squeezing my eyes shut, forcing myself to take deep breathes. <i>Breathe in, count to nine, breathe out. Repeat</i>.</p>
<p>With each breath I took that went uninterrupted, with each second that passed with silence, my body slowly began to unwind. Shoulders slumped down, my back eased out of its rigid hold, my legs unlocked, and I slumped to the ground. </p>
<p>My words to Jeremy repeated in my head: <i>sit down, there you go. Head between your knees</i>. </p>
<p>I pulled my legs to my chest and hung my head down between them, locking my hands behind my neck as I curled into myself. For a fleeting moment, I was back on the floor of Jude’s bedroom, 10-years-old again, curled against my big brother after Uncle Randy had taken his belt to me. </p>
<p>“<i>You’re okay, Little A</i>,” he’d whisper, rubbing my back softly as I slowly started to calm down. I’d always teased him about his uncreative nickname for me that he and Rhett loved, but in the moment of panic, hearing him call me that helped settle the fear. <i>“You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.</i>”</p>
<p>Finally, <i>finally</i>, the panic began to subside. Slowly at first, inching back cautiously as if I still expected an attack at any moment. When I finally accepted that I was safe, my body practically melted in relief and I slumped back wearily, thunking my head against the door. </p>
<p>Three years, thousands of miles, and he still managed to get this kind of reaction out of me. It was pathetic how bad a few texts could scare me. I knew that it took time to get over all he’d put me through and as I composed myself, I tried to remember that it was perfectly okay to react how I had. Wearily I picked my phone up off the bathroom floor and went to reply when I saw he’d sent another. </p>
<p>
  <i>From: 303-555-7343<br/>Your dad said you were in town the other week. Why didn’t you say hi?</i>
</p>
<p>I didn’t realize I was shaking until I tried to type out a response. It took me a bit longer, but I finally managed to send, </p>
<p><i>To: 303-555-7343<br/>You know why. Lose my number and don’t talk to me again</i>. </p>
<p>It took another ten minutes on the floor of the bathroom to figure out how to block numbers, but finally the texts of <i>don’t be like that</i> and <i>come on Aria let’s talk about this</i> came to an end. Fingers still trembling, I went through and deleted all the messages he’d sent and took a few heartbeats to pull myself together. </p>
<p>At half past five I finally hauled myself to my feet and shuffled weakly out of the bathroom. Thankfully, my panicking hadn’t woken Penelope. She was dozing peacefully, and I took comfort in her soft snoring as I curled back up on the other end. </p>
<p><i>I’m okay. He doesn’t know where I am and now he can’t talk to me. It was just a nightmare. Nothing more. He’s nothing</i>, I told myself over and over as I finally began to drift off again. </p>
<p>That’s all Connor ever was, and that was all he was ever gonna be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow, the love you guys have given me has been amazing! Truly. I can't tell you how much it means to me when you all comment and tell me what you think! I really hope you like this chapter! What are your thoughts on Connor so far? I'm excited to know!</p>
<p>You guys are truly the best people ever. Thanks so much for reading! If you haven't already, you can go to recollins.tumblr.com to see the outfits, gifs, and edits I make to go along with the chapters!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. First-Floor Hottie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x06 - About Face</i>
</p><p>Full disclaimer, I don't speak Italian <i>or</i> Russian, so the sentences were translated with Google Translate.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Not even 8am and I was already a hot mess. </p><p>I’d woken up early and taken the ninety minutes to actually style my natural curls instead of just straightening them and re-curling. On top of that I’d stepped up my makeup, worn my new dress, <i>and</i> had managed to grab some tea for my stupidly long drive up from school. Things had been going great until the asshole in a giant camper had decided to merge into my lane without looking. </p><p>Thankfully my driving reflexes were top-notch and I’d swerved out of the way. Except, as I’d learned, my cup-grabbing reflexes weren’t on the same level. The tea went <i>everywhere. </i></p><p><i>Ev-ery-where</i>. </p><p>I’d had no choice but to rush back to my dorm and change. Most of my makeup had been wiped off and now my nicely-curled locks were damp, untamed, and had a vague smell of <i>honey-vanilla chamomile. </i></p><p>I was still grumbling to myself as I slunk towards the front entrance, trying to tame my curls into a bun so I wouldn’t look as wild and rabid as I did right now. They were manageable when styled but now that they were damp and unhinged… <i>ugh</i>. I caught sight of myself in the front door and sighed, dropping my attempts as I went to fish out my badge from my purse. </p><p>“Here, I’ve got the door,” a deep voice said from behind me, catching me off guard. A hand reached past me and grabbed the handle, pulling it open. “Go ahead.”</p><p>“Thanks,” I said in surprise, stepping in and turning to see who’d come to my rescue. He was tall – well, okay, <i>everyone</i> was tall compared to me – with short, sideswept dark blonde hair and soft blue eyes. He was definitely striking, that was for sure, and the smile he fixed me with was nothing short of dazzling. </p><p>“Don’t mention it.”</p><p>“You know, you’re not supposed to let people in if they don’t use their badge,” I started, heading for the elevator as I took up the fight with my curls again. The man fell into step with me, shrugging dismissively. </p><p>“I see you come through here all the time,” he started. At the pointedly wary glance I gave him, he let out a laugh. “Not in the creepy way, I promise.” </p><p>“I’m interested to hear how that’s <i>not</i> creepy,” I mused, finally managing to get most my hair tamed by my hair tie. The man nodded over to the set of offices for the corporate side of headquarters. </p><p>“My desk faces the lobby so I people-watch to avoid my responsibilities. I’m HR. It’s my job to make sure people <i>don’t</i> get creepy around here.” As we reached the elevator, he stuck out his hand. “Chris Reynolds.”</p><p>“Aria DiMaggio,” I smiled, taking his hand and shaking briefly. As the elevator dinged, he stepped back and returned the smile. “I appreciate you letting me inside and only being <i>slightly</i> creepy. What I said stands, though. You shouldn’t just let anyone in. I could be dangerous.”</p><p>Chris’s smile widened into a dazzling grin as he tucked his hands into his pockets, shrugging as he began to walk backwards towards his office area. </p><p>“Oh, don’t worry. I’m looking you up the second I sit down.” At the snort I gave, he pulled an oops face and sighed, “yeah, okay, <i>that</i> was maybe a little creepy.”</p><p>Shaking my head, I stepped back into the elevator.</p><p>“Maybe a little,” I teased, shaking my head as we both laughed. “Nice meeting you, Chris.”</p><p>Chris held up a hand before turning and making his way into the office area. Just as the doors were sliding shut, a bracelet-covered arm shot out and caught them. A moment later Penelope and Emily were squeezing onto the elevator with me, painfully-wide grins on their faces. </p><p>Oh, this wasn’t gonna be good. </p><p>“No, no, <i>no</i>, don’t start –“</p><p>“Who was <i>that</i>?” Penelope gushed, clapping her hands together as Emily cooed, </p><p>“You could be dangerous, huh?”</p><p>“I – okay, when you take it out of context –“</p><p>Pen and Emily glanced at one another before turning back to me. I felt like a cornered rabbit being stalked by two gossip-hungry mountain lions. </p><p>“He was <i>totally</i> into you!” Penelope practically squealed, giving a little bounce. When I scoffed, both Emily and Penelope gave me incredulous looks.</p><p>“He was <i>not</i> into me. We were having a conversation –“</p><p>“He held the door for you, walked you to the elevator, and was giving you a flirty smile at every chance he got,” Emily countered. When I gave her a disbelieving look she laughed, “I could <i>feel</i> the flames of romance from the other side of the lobby.”</p><p>“Okay, how long were you two spying on me –“</p><p>“Don’t change the subject! He was like, full-on into you,” Penelope giggled, linking her arm with mine to march me off the elevator. “<i>Ooh</i>, I know! We’re gonna go get you a date with the first-floor hottie!”</p><p>“We’re not –“ I made a face and gave her a look as we made our way into the bullpen. “Don’t call him that. His name’s Chris.”</p><p>“<i>His name’s Chris</i>,” Penelope and Emily swooned together, dissolving into snickers at the scowl I threw them. </p><p>“Come on,” Penelope insisted, starting to tow me back towards the elevator. “We still have time before the briefing to get you hooked up –“</p><p>“Nope, no, uh-uh,” I said quickly, wrestling my arm free and skirting out of her reach, heading for my desk. “Not interested.”</p><p>“You… you’re <i>not</i> interested in a date with Mr. Gorgeous?” Emily laughed in disbelief, giving me a doubtful look when I shook my head. </p><p>“He’s not my type. He seems like both of yours, though –“</p><p>“How can that chiseled Adonis hunk <i>not</i> be your type?!” Penelope gasped, actually putting a hand to her chest to feign surprise. I rolled my eyes as another voice piped up,</p><p>“Ay, you ladies swooning over me again?” </p><p>Morgan flashed us a cheeky grin as he dropped into his desk chair, throwing a wink at Penelope as she ducked to give him a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>“Always, my delicious chocolate stud-muffin,” she assured, making her way to her office.</p><p>“Oh come on, don’t feed his ego! It’s already a tripping hazard,” I groaned after her. </p><p>“Is that why you’re fallin’ for me, sunshine?” Morgan teased. I faked gagging as Penelope called,</p><p>“Don’t think we’re done discussing the first-floor hottie!”</p><p><i>Why, Penelope</i>?! Morgan slowly turned his chair around to face me completely, a dangerous grin lighting up his face. </p><p>“First-floor hottie, huh?”</p><p>“<i>Oh</i> yeah,” Emily laughed, spinning her own chair to face him as I took a seat on the edge of her desk. “This guy was definitely interested in Aria, but <i>someone</i> says he’s not her type…”</p><p>“He’s <i>not</i>,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “He seems nice and all, but he’s not someone I’d go after.”</p><p>“Anyone bein’ described as a <i>chiseled Adonis hunk</i>’s gotta have some dateable qualities,” Morgan pointed, out, leaning back and smirking as he added, “I mean, I should know.”</p><p>Emily and I gave identical disgusted groans as Morgan snickered to himself. As I went to snap back at him, I caught another member of our team making his way into the bullpen. Sure, he had a mask on, but it wasn’t hard to pick Reid out. I mean, not that I spent enough time ogling him to tell what he looked like just from the outfit he had. </p><p>Crooked, loose tie (underneath the decorative noose around his neck), watch done over the sleeve of his decently-fitted sweater that accentuated his lean figure, slacks that outlined his long legs… Okay, enough Aria. </p><p>I was just about to greet him when he tapped a gloved hand to his masked face, signaling to be quiet as he crept up on Morgan. Emily and I shared a smirk and stayed decidedly silent, watching eagerly as Reid leaned in. </p><p>Morgan felt our stares and turned to smirk at us – probably ready to go off about how attractive he thought he was – as Reid growled, </p><p>“<i>I’m going to eat you</i>!” </p><p>Morgan gave a start, almost jumping out of his chair as he flung papers all over his desk. Emily and I burst out laughing as Morgan scowled after the slender masked man making his way to his desk. </p><p>“<i>Reid</i>,” Morgan scowled, starting to scoop up the papers. </p><p>“Serves you right. Maybe if you weren’t so busy obsessing over yourself you would’ve seen him coming,” I mused, getting more snickering out of Emily as Morgan directed his scowl to me. Before he could snap at me, Reid announced, </p><p>“Happy All Hallows Eve!” </p><p>Ignoring the fluttering in my chest, I turned to smile up at him as the adorable doctor as he wrangled the mask up onto his head. He met me with a wide grin that just stirred up the butterflies <i>again</i>. It was that smile that he got when he was really excited about something, and there were very few things more endearing than a bubbly Spencer Reid.</p><p>“All Hallows Eve, huh?” I prompted, wanting to get him off on one of his fact-ramblings, as Morgan called them. He nodded eagerly and I tipped my head to the side, inviting his excited explanation. </p><p>“It’s a paraphrase from Celtic mythology. Tomorrow night, all order is suspended and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporarily…” he tugged a fake severed head out of the bag and held it up as he howled, “<i>remoooooved</i>!”</p><p>He tossed it to me and I caught it with a laugh, grinning ear-to-ear and instantly looking down at the head to hide the blush I knew I had creeping up. He was dangerously adorable when he got enthusiastic about something. Chiseled Adonis hunks had nothing on an eager, scruffy doctor.</p><p>“See? <i>That</i> right there is why Halloween creeps me out,” Morgan griped, scowl flicking between Reid and myself. I met his look with a cheeky grin as I tossed the head up. </p><p>“You’re scared of Halloween?” I snickered; he pointed a finger at me. </p><p>“Ay. I didn’t say I was <i>scared</i>. I said I was creeped out. There’s a difference there, ya little gremlin. You should go look it up an’ quit botherin’ the adults.”</p><p>I made a face at him as Emily rolled her eyes and asked,</p><p>“What creeps you out about it?”</p><p>“I don’t know. People wearin’ masks,” he started, giving Reid a side-eye. </p><p>“You’re just grumpy ‘cause he scared you,” I scoffed, hoping my instant defense of Reid came off more as a jab at Morgan. </p><p>He leveled an unamused frown at me as he added, “I don’t like folks in disguises.”</p><p>“That’s the best thing about Halloween. You can be anyone you wanna be,” Reid argued, tossing Morgan a few pieces of candy as he shrugged. Morgan held up a hand. </p><p>“Nah. I’m pretty good just bein’ me,” he assured, smug smirk curling his lips again. Emily and I rolled our eyes as she sighed, </p><p>“Why do neither of those points of view surprise me?”</p><p>“Honestly I’m impressed there’s even enough room for us in here with Morgan’s ego at this point,” I agreed; he swiveled in his chair to give me a haughty smile. </p><p>“You know, on the flip side of that, it <i>does</i> provide a pretty good reason to cozy up with a scary flick and a little Halloween honey.” He threw a wink at Emily and I and we both shuddered, groaning in disgust. </p><p>“Ewww,” she whined, instantly standing to leave and holding her hands up in surrender. “Now <i>I’m</i> creeped out. I’m done.”</p><p>As she slipped past us to the conference room, Morgan turned his sights on me and wiggled his aggressive eyebrows at me. </p><p>“<i>Halloween honey</i>,” I repeated, making a face at him. He winked again. “Alright, that’s it. I don’t feel safe in my workplace anymore. I’m telling Hotch.”</p><p>“Trust me, we’ve been doing that for years and he’s still here,” Reid sighed, catching me eye and giving a wry smile as Morgan made a noise of indignation. “Don’t let him ruin All Hallows Eve, though. It’s the best nights of the year.” </p><p>“I’m already not a fan,” I told him simply. “You can enjoy it for me.”</p><p>“You don’t like Halloween?” Reid asked in surprise, face falling just a hint and making me feel like a scrooge. I gave an almost shy shrug as I tossed the fake head absently.</p><p>“It sucked when I was a kid. It was all about the candy, which I couldn’t eat. I ended up losing most my haul to my brother and sister. Now it’s just… <i>eh</i>.”</p><p>“Let me guess, you’re the weird kid that <i>liked</i> getting stickers and apples instead of Twix bars,” Morgan snorted. I gave him my best ‘offended’ look and threw the head at him, crossing my arms as I stuck my tongue out. “Oh, <i>real</i> mature.”</p><p>“Not all of us are equipped to eat candy all night,” I huffed. Morgan threw me one of the candy bars Reid had tossed him and I swatted it away. </p><p>“It just so happens I thought of that,” Reid piped up excitedly, diving into his paper bag. The two of us watched in amusement as he struggled with his fake clawed hands, but he finally made a noise of success and pulled out a chocolate bar. “I hope this one’s okay. There were a few but this had the lowest carbs and sugar.”</p><p>Reid stepped up to me and held the bar out; he dropped it into my outstretched hand and a grin took over my face. <i>Ghiradelli Intense Dark 92%</i>. It was actually my absolute favorite candy (mostly because I could eat it worry-free). He had to have gone out of his way to get this. I studied the bar and then looked up at him, honestly touched by what he’d done.</p><p>“You got me special candy?” was all I managed to ask, the grin on my face painful at this point as the butterflies went berserk in my chest. He nodded quickly and said,</p><p>“Halloween’s my favorite holiday. The best holiday, in my opinion. I wanted everyone to enjoy it.”</p><p>“This is…” I started, and the giddiness fluttering through me made me pause for a moment before I could manage, “this is so nice of you, Reid. Really. These are expensive, though. You didn’t need to –“</p><p>“I wanted to,” he assured, shrugging his shoulders, shy smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t want you to be left out.”</p><p>Well, shit. There went <i>any</i> chances of stopping my crush. It took off with reckless abandon as I smiled up at Reid, honestly at a loss for words. Not surprisingly, my own parents hadn’t even taken the time to get candy I could have. It was just the economy bag from Wal-Mart and ‘<i>you don’t need all that sugar anyways, Aria. A woman’s figure is as important as her manners</i>’.</p><p>As I went to finally try and say something to break the timid, smiling silence we’d fallen into I caught the devilish grin on Morgan’s face. His eyes flicked to Reid, back to me, and his brows wiggled <i>again</i>. The already-burning blush on my cheeks ignited even <i>more</i> and I threw him my most dangerous scowl to make him keep quiet. </p><p>“You know, it’s makin’ sense now why you told Garcia and Prentiss you weren’t interested –“</p><p>“Keep talking and I’m replacing the fake head with <i>your</i> head,” I threatened, only half-joking. Morgan let out a bark of laughter. </p><p>“Oh, yeah. I’m real scared of the five-foot gremlin –“</p><p>“Five foot <i>and a half</i>,” I corrected haughtily; he laughed harder. </p><p>“That doesn’t count –“</p><p>“Guys, he’s here,” Reid hissed, cutting off our bickering as he nodded to the hall. Thankfully he’d managed to derail Morgan’s train of embarrassment before it could fully leave the station. </p><p>Hotch had told us we were getting a new member today – well, <i>old</i> new member. As in, <i>one of the founders of the BAU, David Rossi himself</i> member. Morgan and I instantly shut up and turned to stare through the glass doors as I hastily tucked my candy bar into my pocket. Strauss was standing with a tall, dark-haired man, motioning our direction and starting to make their way to us. Morgan sat up quickly and I hopped off the desk, smoothing out my skirt. Reid tugged the mask off his head, sending his unruly waves sticking up every which way. </p><p><i>Seriously adorable</i>.</p><p>“Reid,” I giggled, catching his attention. “Your hair’s just a little…” he hastily tried to smooth his skewed curls down with the gloves on his hand, and somehow just made them worse. “Okay, okay, hang on. Here, let me just –“</p><p>As Strauss started to lead in who I presumed to be David Rossi, I leaned over and grabbed the noose around Reid’s neck, tugging him down to my height. His caramel eyes were just inches from mine and I for a moment I lost my train of thought.  </p><p>Pressed for time, though, I shoved my crushing aside as I quickly swept my fingers through his hair. Lucky for him, I was used to dealing with disobedient scruffy hair; it was second-nature to fix him up. I’d done it with Jude and his reckless curls dozens of times before dad could fly off the handle about his desolate, disheveled children at one of his press conferences. </p><p>Only after I situated his hair and released his noose did I realize how… well, how <i>intimate</i> that had just been. Yeah, the smirk Morgan threw over his shoulder confirmed my blush was valid. When I turned to Reid I was surprised to see him staring wordlessly down at me instead of awkwardly at his shoes like I’d been expecting. </p><p>His cheeks were a healthy shade of pink, and I <i>really</i> wanted to think he was as flustered by me as I was by him… but I realized it was probably because our socially-distanced profiler didn’t like being touched and I’d just sort of manhandled him. </p><p>“Sorry,” I said quickly, giving him an apologetic smile as my fingers twisted nervously into the hem of my skirt. “That was – uh, I know you don’t like being touched. I didn’t mean –“</p><p>“No, it – it’s okay,” he said just as fast, finally dropping his eyes as he gave a nervous chuckle. “I just – thanks.”</p><p>“Gotta look good for David Rossi,” I joked, and then realized I’d basically just said he looked good. I mean, he <i>did</i>, but I didn’t want to go announcing that! <i>Jeeze</i> Aria. I snapped my mouth shut and quickly turned around before I dug myself any further into this embarrassing hole. Morgan let his smirk linger on me for another few seconds before he turned as well, just in time to watch Strauss lead David Rossi past his. His eyes swept over the three of us and I offered up a warm smile before he turned away. </p><p>Morgan and Reid instantly dissolved into hushed whisperings about rumors they’d heard of Rossi. I went to jump in when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I peeked at the caller ID and my stomach knotted instantly. </p><p>Another <i>303</i> number I didn’t know, and this time it was <i>calling</i>. Instantly I broke out into a cold, panicked sweat. The anxiety was rushing up through me and soon I’d be on the floor, head between my knees, gasping for air as I sobbed and shook. </p><p><i>Not at work I won’t be</i>, I thought instantly, ignoring the call and shoving the phone back in my pocket. My heart was still racing, fear tingling up and down my back, setting me on edge. My fight-or-flight response was begging for a lot more <i>flight</i> than I was giving right now. Instead of letting the panic drag me down I tried to focus on Morgan and Reid’s conversation. </p><p>Their words were jumbled, muffled, useless. I couldn’t make it out; I couldn’t concentrate. All I could hear was Connor’s voice, all I could see was the hard gleam in his dark blue eyes as he rounded on me, trapping me in the corner of his room –</p><p>When my phone buzzed again I actually gave a start, sucking in a sharp breath, hands instantly clutching tight to my stomach as I braced for an impact that wasn’t coming. Morgan and Reid instantly turned to me and I gave a tight smile. It was probably more of a grimace, judging by the looks of concern the guys gave me.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Reid asked as Morgan shifted towards me. I gave a nervous laugh and nodded quickly. </p><p>“I scare easily,” I told them dismissively, tugging out my buzzing phone and holding it up. Reid still looked worried, but Morgan was laughing and nodding in agreement.</p><p>“Yeah, I kinda figured that when you screamed and came after me with a throw pillow.”</p><p>As I flipped my phone open I threw him a scowl. </p><p>“Are you sure –“ Reid paused his question to me and looked back at Morgan. “Wait, what?”</p><p>“Yeah, last week when I went to pick up her and Garcia. I knock on the door –“</p><p>“You mean you tried to <i>break down</i> the door,” I corrected briefly before turning my attention to my phone. Morgan scoffed and kept going as I hit <i>Ignore</i> again. Knowing better this time, I kept the phone in front of me. A few moments later, another call from the same number came through and I declined it almost instantly. </p><p>Not even a minute later, a new text popped up. Taking a breath to steel myself, I opened it and skimmed it quickly. </p><p>
  <i>303-555-1998</i>
</p><p><i>Quit ignoring my calls. We need to talk.</i> </p><p>I deleted the message and went to put my phone away as another came through. </p><p>
  <i>303-555-1998</i>
</p><p><i>I’m trying to fix things. I thought that’s what you wanted</i>. </p><p>A spark of anger broke through the sea of panic and had me replying before I could stop myself. </p><p>
  <i>I want you to leave me the hell alone Connor. Don’t text me again.</i>
</p><p>Trying to keep my hands from trembling as bad as they were, I managed to put my phone on silent before I snapped it shut and tried to take a steadying breath. I’d never wanted to talk to Conner Aldridge <i>ever</i> again in my life and now he had my number. He knew where I was. </p><p><i>He can’t find me here. I’m safe here</i>, I chanted to myself as I forced myself to take another breath. <i>He can’t find me. He can’t find me. He can’t</i> –</p><p>Tentative fingers brushed the arm I had tucked tight against me and my eyes snapped up instantly as I tensed. Reid, staring down at me in concern, pulled his hand back but stepped a little closer. His soft eyes flicked between my own. </p><p>“Are you sure you’re alright?” I started to nod as I tried to think of what to say. Reid’s lips tipped up just a hint and he added, “you’re shaking. You don’t seem alright.”</p><p><i>My ex is harassing me and I’m torn between being furious and scared shitless</i>, I thought instantly as I settled instead for saying,</p><p>“My sugars are just a little low. I’ll grab a snack before briefing.” Reid nodded slowly, still looking uncertain, so I teased, “to be honest I’m just gonna eat this candy bar in one sitting and pretend that’s an okay thing to do. It’s my favorite.”</p><p>At this a full smile bloomed, infectious enough that it got one out of me too. </p><p>“Is it really?”</p><p>“Yep,” I assured, tugging it back out of my pocket and holding it up proudly. “You’re definitely an A-plus profiler.”</p><p>He chuckled and gave me a toothy grin, managing to settle some of the fear and jitters skittering through me. He went to say something else just as we heard Hotch’s office door open. Our steel-faced leader actually had hints of a smile on his face as he led our newest member down the ramp towards us. Was he in a cheerful mood today? I’d heard rumors about this side of him, but did I actually get to see a happy Hotch?</p><p>All three of us gathered together in front of the desks as Hotch announced, </p><p>“SSA David Rossi, this is SSA Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid –“</p><p>To mine <i>and</i> Morgan’s surprise, Reid instantly launched into talking. </p><p>“Sir, if I could talk to you later about your work with the Scarsdale Skinner? Psycholinguistics is an incredibly dynamic field and the fact that your profile of his reading habits ultimately led to his capture is something I find so incredibly –“</p><p>Catching the look on Hotch’s face, I gently nudged Reid’s arm with my elbow. He paused and glanced down at me, then over at Hotch. He gave Reid a small smile and teased, </p><p>“Reid, slow down. He’ll be here for a while.”</p><p>“Right, sorry,” he said with a meek smile, eyes dropping briefly to his shoes. I nudged him again and gave him a reassuring glance as Hotch motioned to me. </p><p>“And this is our intern, Aria DiMaggio.”</p><p>“It’s great to meet you Agent Rossi,” I said with another warm smile, taking the hand he held out to me. </p><p>“Just Rossi is fine,” he assured, and his smile grew a bit. “DiMaggio... Italian roots, I take it?”</p><p>“Oh yeah. Her mom’s full-blooded Italian,” Morgan quipped, getting a snort out of both myself <i>and</i> Hotch. </p><p>“Yes, Italian,” I confirmed, rolling my eyes at Morgan. Rossi gave me a wry grin and then asked in Italian,</p><p>“<i>La vera domanda è: esattamente quanto sei ‘italiano</i>’?” </p><p>With a shrug, I offered simply, “<i>Abbastansza italiano da sapere che non è un vero pasto a meno che non ci sia pasta e pane.</i>”</p><p>“I like you already,” Rossi chuckled. “You’re an intern, eh? Imagine that. Haven’t had one since before I retired.”</p><p>“We’ve got a jet now too, you know,” Hotch added, and Rossi’s eyes widened. </p><p>“Are you serious?”</p><p>Hotch just smiled and nodded, motioning towards the conference room before glancing at the three of us. </p><p>“Let’s go, JJ’s waiting with another case.”</p><p>As the guys around me began to make their way up the ramp I asked, </p><p>“How do you take your coffee, Rossi?”</p><p>He glanced back and gave me a bemused smile. </p><p>“Oh, so you really <i>do</i> get us coffee?”</p><p>“She likes to seem productive,” Morgan quipped; I snapped a scowl at him. </p><p>“Behave or you’re not getting anything.” </p><p>“Empty threats. You brought it to me last time,” he scoffed. </p><p>“Dark with a splash of cream,” Rossi answered pointedly over our bickering. I gave him a smile and nod before turning to Morgan, not-so-subtly flipping him off. Reid snickered into his sweater and Morgan glared at him, playfully pushing his face aside as Reid tried walked past. I grabbed his sleeve and tugged his hand down from the scruffy doctor, letting him go past unbothered. </p><p>“I’ve got over a foot on you. You really wanna take me?” Morgan teased, purposefully drawing himself up to lean over me. I tipped my head back and said sweetly, </p><p>“That’s a good question. You sure you wanna harass the person making your coffee?”</p><p>His eyes narrowed dangerously down at me. “Ay. Don’t you poison me.”</p><p>“Are you gonna behave?” Morgan scowled, but didn’t argue. I gave a cheeky smile and patted his arm placatingly as I backed for the break area. “That’s what I thought. You and your aggressive eyebrows go start profiling the case and keep your hands to yourself.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I won’t –“ he cut off as he processed what I said. “<i>What</i> did you just say about my eyebrows?!” </p><p>There was a bark of laughter from the conference room that sounded suspiciously like Hotch. I stifled my own snickering as Morgan flipped <i>me</i> off and hurried after the others, defending his brows as he went.</p><p>As I gathered the cups, setting the coffee on, I felt someone at my side. Reid smiled when I looked up at him and I returned the gesture before going back to prepping the drinks. He leaned a hip against the counter as he watched me work, and after a few moments of compatible silence he finally voiced, </p><p>“You speak Italian?”</p><p>“I do. Sometimes better than English,” I joked, enjoying the toothy smile it pulled from him. “You’re so smart, I’m sure you know a ton of languages.”</p><p>Reid actually blushed just a hint as he gave a shy shrug of his shoulders. “I can read a lot of them. Speaking is a different story. I’m really only decent in Spanish, but I’m getting better at Russian.”</p><p>“You know <i>Russian</i>?” I gaped, and when he gave a meek nod I gushed, “that’s so cool!”</p><p>Reid’s brows furrowed as he tilted his head, studying me in surprise. “I… you think so? I usually get told the opposite about that…”</p><p>“It’s <i>super</i> cool,” I promised him, and when it was clear he still didn’t believe me I said quickly, “I actually tried to learn Russian in high school.”</p><p>The puzzlement on his face grew, watching me pour the coffee as he asked, “Russian’s certainly not a very popular language. Why did you want to learn it?”</p><p>“No making fun of me,” I began. The smile he gave me assured he wouldn’t, so I took a breath. “My sophomore year we read <i>War and Peace</i> by Leo Tolstoy. I really liked it so I started reading other books by him. I really wanted to read some of his stuff in the original Russian so I spent a whole summer trying to learn.”</p><p>Reid was staring at me, only managing to blink as he processed what I said. I was ready for facts and statistics about how hard it was to learn Russian, or even about Tolstoy himself, so when an impressed smile took over his face and softened his features I was totally lost to my crush. </p><p>“You like Tolstoy?” he finally asked, and when I nodded he said instantly, “he’s one of my favorite authors. I’ve – I’ve actually never met someone else who’s enjoyed reading <i>War and Peace</i>. Let alone any of his others works.” </p><p>My heart skipped several beats and I struggled to do anything but grin up at Reid. Seriously, how was it possible to find so many things you liked about one person, wrapped up in a handsome package like he was? Had someone sculpted Spencer Reid with me in mind?</p><p>“<i>Anna Karenina</i> is my favorite of his,” I told him, finally getting back to fixing the drinks. “I was dead-set on being able to read Russian in three months and I was heartbroken when I found out how hard it is.”</p><p>Reid nodded, handing over lids to the cups as <i>now</i> launched into his facts. “Russian’s one of the hardest languages for native English speakers, right behind Mandarin, Arabic, and Polish. Paired with the Cyrillic alphabet and having six cases to it, it’s very hard to master on your own.”</p><p>“Yeah, fifteen-year-old Aria is still bitter about it,” I huffed, shaking my head as I sat the pot on for hot water. To my surprise, I saw Reid duck his head as he cleared his throat as he offered shyly,</p><p>“I.. I’d be happy to teach you. If you still wanted to learn.”</p><p>I spun to face him, the grin on my face almost painful. Reid clearly hadn’t been expecting my reaction, brows lifting to his hairline as he watched me with a bemused smile. “Would you really?”</p><p>“Of course. I’d love to,” he told me instantly. “It’d be great to have someone else that understands Russian. Emily knows it, but she doesn’t seem to enjoy it like I do.”</p><p>Trying to keep myself from turning six different shades of red, I told him as nonchalantly as possible, “if you’re up for trying to teach me, then I’m game. I should warn you though, it might take some time, so I hope you’re patient.”</p><p>Reid just nodded enthusiastically as he assured, “I don’t mind, I love teaching. It would be fun to help you learn.”</p><p>The butterflies were running rampant inside me. Reid thought it would be fun to hang out and teach me things? I honestly couldn’t think of anything better than spending countless hours with our resident genius, which got me completely flustered. <i>Of course.</i> </p><p>“Let’s do it, then,” I finally managed, grabbing the pot of hot water and then peeking up at him as I filled his cup. “In return for your patience and knowledge, I can teach you Italian if you want.”</p><p>“Would you really?” he asked me excitedly, face lighting up and getting a giggle out of me. </p><p>With a nod, I opened the cupboard above me and swept my hand across the selection of boxes. “<i>Che tipo di tè vuoi…</i> What kind of tea do you want?”</p><p>Reid actually <i>giggled</i> and I thought my heart would burst right then and there. He pointed to the green tea and said, “<i>Зеленый чай</i>.” </p><p>I could honestly say I’d never heard anyone speak Russian as attractively as Reid just had. My heart fluttered <i>again</i>, and I had to busy myself with dunking his tea bag into the cup and pressing it into his hands to get everything sorted out again. </p><p>“Green tea for Dr. Russia,” I teased, getting another honest giggle out of him; his tongue pressed against his teeth as he gave another wide grin. The two of us shared smiles as I scooped up the tray of drinks, following my painfully adorable crush into the conference room. </p><p>Though today had started out pretty poorly, it was safe to say things were looking up. It seemed Spencer Reid, a special candy bar, and a few words of Russian could fix any of the problems the world wanted to throw at me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for your awesome comments and support! You guys always put a huge smile on my face - a giant shout-out to Acrosseverystar for pointing out that Spencer "looks like he’s being haunted by the ghost of his dead great grandmother". It's been a week and I'm still laughing at that. </p><p>Seriously, if you guys could take the time to tell me your thoughts on the chapter or the story itself, I love your comments! They totally make my day and all of them stick with me and help motivate my writing!</p><p>A lot of you have requested some chapters in between cases, and I'm all for it! Is there anything you guys would like to see? Any kind of interaction between Aria and members of the team, Aria outside of the BAU, things like that? I'm fully open to your ideas and want to put in things you guys want to see, so request away!</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Leaves & Thank You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x06 - About Face</i>
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  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/621008334247624704/chapter-update">Aria's Outfit</a>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The smirk on Morgan’s face as I set his coffee down was almost enough to make me upend it onto his lap. One of these days I really <i>wasn’t</i> gonna make him his drink <i>just</i> to see the smug smile slip off his face. As I made my way around the table I bumped the back of Morgan’s chair, knocking him into the table. Emily and Reid fought to smother smiles as I glanced back at him innocently and shrugged. </p><p>“Oops.”</p><p>“Watch it,” he warned, hint of a smile tugging at the scowl he tried to fix on me. As I handed Emily her cup and gave her a quick wink, I caught the end of JJ’s overview of the victim.</p><p>“…and her face had been removed.”</p><p>The table of profilers all lifted their heads in surprise and I made the mistake of glancing at the screen with them on instinct; instantly I turned back around and grimaced. That was <i>not</i> an image I’d wanted seared into my brain. </p><p>“Removed?” I managed, keeping my eyes trained on the cup I handed down to Hotch as Rossi added, </p><p>“We’re sure it wasn’t animals or fish?”</p><p>“The Dallas County M.E. said the edges of the wounds were smooth, not torn, and a very sharp instrument had been used. He also found water in her lungs.” </p><p>As I set the last cup down in front of Rossi I pulled another face; JJ caught my eye and gave me a nod in agreement. <i>Seriously</i> why the heck would <i>anyone</i> want to remove a <i>face</i> –</p><p>“<i>Oh my god</i>!” Penelope gasped from behind me. All of us turned to look up at her in surprise. I could <i>feel</i> the horrified look she was hiding behind the file she’d lifted in defense. </p><p>“Technical analyst Penelope Garcia, this is SSA David Rossi,” Hotch said dryly, bemused smile flittering over his face. He was in a cheerful mood and honestly, it was almost bizarre seeing Agent Aaron Hotchner <i>smiley</i>, but I liked seeing his warmer side coming out… all faceless things considered. </p><p>“Is it gone?!” Penelope squeaked out. JJ quickly shut the image off and promised, </p><p>“It’s gone. You’re safe.”</p><p>“Okay,” she breathed, carefully lowering the file and then holding it out to Hotch with a shaky hand. “Just to, um… Carrollton, Texas has nearly 117,000 residents, a diverse population with a… well, it’s all in there – I’m sorry. I just – it’s great to meet you, Agent Rossi. I just – <i>there was no face</i> –“</p><p>“Hey, okay,” I cut in before she could ramble any further, skirting the table and resting a hand on her arm. “Okay, let’s go back to your office and get that image out of your head. I have cute pictures to show you.”</p><p>“You do?” she piped up as I all but shoved her out of the conference room. “Oh good. I need cute pictures.”</p><p>“I know,” I assured, reaching back to pull the door shut. The rest of the team were watching us with varying levels of bemused smiles; we were all used to Penelope and her inability to handle the squicky cases. Hotch caught my eye before I shut the door completely and told me, </p><p>“Meet us in the lobby in half an hour.”</p><p>I gave him a brisk nod and parting smile as I threw out, “Aye aye, captain.”</p><p>As I shut the door, Penelope and I fell into step together, practically jogging to the sanctity of her office and making it there in record time. She dropped into her seat and then instantly spun to me as I pulled up her spare office chair. </p><p>“Cute pictures,” she demanded, putting on her most desperate pout. I pulled my phone out – clearing out of the two missed calls and a slew of texts – to get the pictures Aubrianna had sent me this morning. </p><p>“Here’s Katie,” I told her, handing the phone over. Her face instantly melted into a grin. </p><p>“<i>Oh</i> she’s precious! A medieval princess?”</p><p>“Lady Guinevere. She’s big on Camelot right now,” I explained, grinning down at my niece as I reached over to move to the next picture. Penelope <i>aww</i>’d and let out a laugh seeing Wyatt’s costume. </p><p>“He’s a little FBI agent!” </p><p>“Complete with the badge Morgan gave him when we went to dinner,” I confirmed. “I’m pretty sure if he knew how to get past the child locks on the door, he’d already be here jumping into the case headfirst.”</p><p>“Just like his Aunt,” she teased, and we both fell quiet when she saw another text pop up from the same <i>303</i> number. I tensed, color instantly draining from my face, but Penelope didn’t notice. She was too busy grinning down at the phone.  </p><p>“<i>Ooh</i>, is this first-floor hottie?” she giggled, going to open the message. My hand shot out faster than I knew it could move and snagged the phone out of her hold, tucking it away before she could try and get it back. </p><p>“His name is Chris,” I prefaced, trying to keep my voice steady as the crazy waves of panic started churning again. “And no, it’s not. He didn’t give me his number because he <i>wasn’t</i> flirting with me.”</p><p>Penelope scoffed, and to my surprise she turned for her computer. </p><p>“We can fix that. He gave you his last name, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, and I’m <i>not</i> giving it to you,” I told her instantly, willing the nerves inside me to settle. After all this time away from Connor, why did I still have to react like this? Why could just a few texts send me spiraling back into the exhausting, terrified life I’d finally left behind?</p><p>“<i>Aria</i>,” she whined, turning back to me with another pout on her face. “Come <i>on</i>. You have a dream encounter with a gorgeous guy that’s <i>totally</i> interested in you, and you want nothing to do with him?”</p><p><i>He might be cute but he’s no Spencer Reid</i>, I thought before I could stop myself. Although, I <i>did</i> have a point. Not that I could tell Penelope that. I had no idea how she’d react knowing I liked Reid – wait, was I admitting I liked him? – and any way it ended up swinging it wasn’t gonna work out well. </p><p>“Aria,” she pressed, nudging my foot with hers. I gave her my best playful smile as I got to my feet, trying to keep things lighthearted as I made my escape. </p><p>“He’s just not my type, Pen. Simple as that. If you’re interested, I’ll use my insider advantage with him to get <i>you</i> his number…”</p><p>“Oh please,” she <i>tsk</i>’d, waving her hand. “There’s only one man for me, and that slice of chocolate hunk cake is <i>much</i> more my flavor.”</p><p>Hand resting on the handle of her door, I turned to jam a finger at her, giving my most serious frown. </p><p>“Do <i>not</i> tell Morgan that. He’s already at dangerous levels of arrogance today, and <i>you</i> aren’t the one who has to be trapped on a plane with him.”</p><p>She just giggled and shook her head, giving me a quick wink as I rolled my eyes at her. </p><p>“He already knows my undying love for him,” she assured. “You be safe, okay?”</p><p>“I will be,” I promised, stepping out of her office and giving her a warm smile. “Be my flight texting buddy?”</p><p>“All day, every day, my precious little honeybee,” she assured, giggling with me as I finally pulled the door shut. I got about halfway down the hall towards the bullpen before I remembered all the texts waiting on my phone. </p><p>With a heavy sigh, I came to a stop and slumped against the wall, reluctantly tugging my phone out. Two more texts had come in, and another popped up as I was working on blocking <i>this</i> number. With the block finally in place I started deleting the messages, not even reading them as I went. </p><p><i>He managed to find a way to get in touch with me again pretty quickly</i>, I thought to myself, tucking the phone away once the last message was gone and heading to my desk to grab my go bag. <i>How soon will he do that again</i>?</p><p>No, no, no. I wasn’t lingering on that. I wasn’t letting myself get worked up over Connor any more than I already had been. I was at work. We had a case, his number was blocked, and that was that. No more Connor influencing how I felt or how my day went. He wasn’t a part of me anymore and I wasn’t giving him that hold on me. I’d fought to get away from all of that and I wasn’t letting a few texts pull me back down. </p><p> The past was in the past, and that’s where Connor Aldridge was staying. </p><p>--</p><p>“Let’s go over victimology,” Hotch began as we all gathered around him on the jet that evening. Emily, Reid, JJ, and Morgan were in the four seats around the table, and Hotch was standing in the aisle, leaning against the side of JJ’s seat. As Rossi settled onto the couch I took a seat on the cabinet between him and Hotch, fitting in the small space surprisingly well. I was just short enough I didn’t have to bend over like the rest of the team; my head didn’t even brush the overhang above me. </p><p>“Oh good, we got a special gremlin-sized seat,” Morgan teased, catching my eye as I tugged out my notebook. I leveled him with an unamused scowl as I mocked, </p><p>“<i>We got a special gremlin-sized seat</i>.”</p><p>“Oh that’s <i>real</i> mature,” he snorted; I raised a brow at him. </p><p>“<i>That’s REAL mature</i>.”</p><p>“Ay don’t you start that –“</p><p>“<i>Don’t you start that</i> –“</p><p>“I’m gonna come over there –“</p><p>“<i>I’m gonna come over there</i> –“</p><p>“That’s it, you’re in trouble –“</p><p>“<i>You’re in trouble</i> –“</p><p>Hotch cleared his throat and both Morgan and I cut off. I looked up at our leader and gave him a cheeky grin. He slowly lifted a brow at me and, holding my smile, I pointedly clicked my pen and lifted my notebook. </p><p>His lips twitched briefly before he turned back to the rest of the team; I stuck my tongue out at Morgan and he made a face back as Hotch asked, </p><p>“What’ve you got, Reid?”</p><p>“Uh,” he trailed, fighting the smile that came onto his face as he watched the two of us continue to silently bicker. “Michelle Colucci was single, lived alone, no boyfriend, and no ex-husband.”</p><p>“Nothing in the reports about her dating, either,” Emily continued as JJ added,</p><p>“She was an architect, friends and coworkers said she was a classic workaholic.”</p><p>“So, a loner who rarely went out of the house. That’d make her extremely low risk, right?” I asked, pausing from my notetaking to glance up at the team. JJ and Emily nodded as Reid added on, </p><p>“If it wasn’t someone she knew personally, it’s possible she was being stalked. Putting up missing posters of the victims <i>before</i> they go missing certainly lends to the sadistic tendencies of some stalkers.”</p><p>“Interesting,” Rossi murmured from beside me, lost in his own notes. </p><p>“What’s that?” I asked eagerly, ready to start jotting down the profiling knowledge of the infamous David Rossi. He glanced at me and dismissed, </p><p>“Oh, I’m just thinking out loud.”</p><p>My pen lowered a bit, disappointed I didn’t get to hear his take on the case. The others looked up at him as Hotch pressed, </p><p>“Something to add?”</p><p>“No,” Rossi said simply. “Sorry to interrupt.”</p><p>As he lowered his eyes back to his own notebook, JJ and I shared a look of mild bewilderment. It wasn’t normal to hold back during victimology. I was the quietest, mostly because I couldn’t keep up with the team and didn’t want to make them stop to explain it all. Rossi was the foreman of the BAU, though. Surely he had <i>something</i> to give to the conversation…</p><p>“Well, she’s pretty,” Morgan picked up, getting the ball rolling again. “It could be that the UnSub met her casually and made her some part of his fantasy.”</p><p>“And then when she didn’t meet his expectations, or went against that fantasy, he acted out in rage?” Hotch mused; Reid <i>hmm</i>’d, flipping through his folder to pull out a picture. </p><p>“Masks often represent a state of mind,” he started, showing us the photo of the white mask. “This one’s blank, expressionless. Doesn’t really coincide with anger.”</p><p>“Reid, it’s hard to imagine he did this out of anything less than rage,” Morgan countered, holding up the picture of the faceless victim; I grimaced and dropped my eyes to my notes. Thankfully, Penelope popped up on the laptop and drew us away from the gruesome images. </p><p>“Hey guys, I’ve got a list of Michelle Colucci’s clients. She designed office spaces. Mostly big corporate remodeling plans.” I <i>hmm</i>’d now and Hotch motioned for me to speak up. </p><p>“Did she have any one-on-one clients? Any private meetings or anything of the sort?”</p><p>“Doesn’t look like it, honeybunch.”</p><p>“Thanks, Pen,” I murmured, losing myself to my thoughts while she gave some more tidbits about what the local PD had come across. As she signed off, I began scribbling my thoughts in my notebook, tapping my pen to my chin as I read back over the pieces of the puzzle we had so far. </p><p>“What does that tell you about the UnSub?” Emily prompted me; I flicked my eyes up and saw the others looking at me curiously. I felt myself hesitate a little, knowing my own inner thinking wasn’t up to par with them. It was Reid that caught my eye, though, and he gave me an encouraging smile. The butterflies that fluttered to life in my stomach pushed aside my unease and I offered up,</p><p>“No one-on-one clients at least rules out a more intimate connection with Michelle, I’d think. Which means we can’t rely solely on clients, because for all we know the UnSub had as much to do with her at work as he did anyone that walked past her on the street.”</p><p>“That’s good, sunshine,” Morgan praised, matching Reid’s smile and comforting the nerves. Hotch nodded his agreement as he pushed off JJ’s seat to stand between us. </p><p>“We’ve got a good idea of where to start. We should land around 4am and I want you all to be prepared to hit the ground running. The media already has their hands on the case, and they’ve given it a name. I want to get in front of this as fast as possible.”</p><p>We all voiced our agreements, and the moment we were done, Rossi was up off the couch, retreating to the seat farthest from the group. JJ and I shared another curious glance, and I didn’t miss the frown that settled onto Hotch’s face. <i>So much for his sunny disposition today</i>.</p><p>The last thing we needed on this kind of case was a team that wasn’t fully cohesive. It had been hard enough with Strauss opposing us on my first case, and she wasn’t even an essential profiler. If Rossi didn’t want to join in, this was gonna be a <i>really</i> long investigation. </p><p>-- </p><p><i>Man</i> was I glad I’d managed to nap a few hours. Apparently, when Hotch said <i>running</i>, he meant literally. Okay, admittedly it was mostly because of my short legs, but I was jogging behind the team as we raced into the station. Penelope had just called to tell us there was another missing woman. </p><p>“Her name’s Enid White,” Detective Yarbrough said to us as he led to our temporary setup, holding up the newest flier that had been posted by the UnSub. Thankfully we came to a stop and I managed to catch up, squeezing in next to Hotch to take a look at the flier. “Roommate called this morning, said Enid never came home after walking her dog last night.”</p><p>“So this time she <i>is</i> missing,” Reid said in surprise; the other woman hadn’t been when their posters were strung up. Detective Yarbrough nodded and added, </p><p>“The posters were put up for two blocks around the perimeter of her apartment.”</p><p>“Outside?” I asked; he nodded. “That’s different. There’s a good chance someone saw him then, right?”</p><p>“Well…” the Detective sighed. Emily shared a look of surprise with me as she asked, </p><p>“<i>No one</i> saw him putting them up?”</p><p>“Dallas PD is still canvassing, but nothing so far.”</p><p>“Alright. Morgan, you and Prentiss go to Michelle Colucci’s house. JJ, you and I will go talk to Enid’s roommate. Dave, do you mind walking the disposal sight with Reid and Aria?”</p><p>Disposal sight, I could do that. The classes I was taking for profiling were going over observations in the field, and I knew Hotch wanted to give me the first-hand experience.</p><p>“Whatever you need,” Rossi confirmed; Hotch nodded and said, </p><p>“We’ll regroup in an hour.” As I turned to gather with Reid and Rossi he added, “Aria, a word?”</p><p>I paused and turned back to him, looking up curiously as he stepped closer. His eyes flicked briefly to Rossi and then back down to me. </p><p>“I want you to stay with Reid.” He caught the curious raise of my eyebrow and explained, “he’s well aware of my expectations for you in the field and he’ll be able to ensure you’re accounted for.”</p><p>“So, basically, you don’t fully trust Rossi because <i>he</i> isn’t fully trusting <i>us</i>,” I hinted. He kept his stoic face, though one corner of his lips twitched briefly. </p><p>“I didn’t say that.”</p><p>“You kinda did,” I pointed out; his brows drew together a little more and I gave him a grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay with Reid.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he told me, nodding towards the group waiting for me. Though I teased him for it, I really liked knowing that Hotch made sure I was taken care of. Hell, he was more fatherly than my own dad. Not that it really took much to meet that requirement, but still. </p><p>As I approached the guys, Detective Yarbrough looked down at my outfit and asked warily,</p><p>“You sure you can handle the field in shoes like that? It’s gonna be some rough terrain, Miss.” </p><p>Stifling the sigh that automatically rose up, I gave a reassuring smile as I told him, </p><p>“Don’t worry about me, Detective. I’ll be just fine.”</p><p>To my surprise, it was Rossi that gave me the skeptical look in response. I bit my lip, opting for silence, and followed the others out of the station. At least Reid didn’t make a comment, probably sensing the irritation prickling over me. He and I climbed in the back and we rode in silence; I pointedly studied my shoes, the irritation rising a bit. </p><p>It was so automatic for everyone to assume I wasn’t functional in heels. I’d been short all my life, not even reaching five foot until the end of my junior year. Heels had been my go-to shoe almost daily since my mom bought me my first pair of kitten heels for communion when I was 8. I was more comfortable running in rough terrain with my pumps than I was in sneakers. </p><p>“Did you know that the German chocolate cake was actually created by a woman from Dallas, Texas?” </p><p>I pulled out of my moody thoughts to look up at Reid. He was giving me a small smile, brows raised as he waited for my response. </p><p>“I thought it came from Germany,” I admitted, and found myself smiling as Reid instantly lit up to dive into his explanation. </p><p>“It’s a common misconception. You see, the cake is based around the type of dark baking chocolate created by Samuel German. Mrs. George Clay made a recipe using the German chocolate and it was featured as the recipe of the day on the Dallas Morning News in 1957.”</p><p>“Really? So this whole time it’s just been a chocolate cake from Dallas?” I asked him; Reid nodded eagerly. </p><p>“You see, originally it was called <i>German’s</i> Chocolate Cake, as it was based off the full name of the chocolate. But as the cake gained popularity and the recipe was spread around, the <i>S</i> was dropped off and it became misleadingly known as German cake. In fact, it’s fascinating because for a long time there were debates about <i>where</i> in Germany the cake originated from. So much so in fact that…”</p><p>As he spoke, I realized he was pulling my mind off what the Detective and Agent Rossi had said. When he saw me turn to face him completely, smile growing as he went on – more because I realized he was trying to cheer me up than anything else – he kept going enthusiastically. By the time we got to the disposal site, my irritation was swept under the rug. </p><p>It didn’t even surface when we got out and the Detective prefaced instantly,</p><p>“You just let us know if you need any help or need t0 take a break, Miss.”</p><p>“Will do, Detective,” I quipped, falling into step with Reid as we made for the line of trees ahead. Admittedly it was a little dicey making our way through the unkempt, wild underbrush and rocky terrain, but it wasn’t challenging by any means. </p><p>In fact, I was the only one keeping pace with the detective by the time we reached the sloping bank of the river. Reid and Rossi were a dozen feet behind us, still scrambling over the bushes I’d just maneuvered over. It definitely made me feel a lot better. </p><p>“We went over this area pretty thoroughly,” Detective Yarbrough said; when he reached the river and turned, he looked surprised to only see me at his side. </p><p>“They’re coming,” I told him with a pointed smile, folding my hands behind my back. He pressed his lips together and nodded, clearly getting the point I was making. A few moments later as Reid and Rossi came around the line of trees, reaching the bank, the Detective added,</p><p>“There’s really no evidence left to look at here Agents, I’m sorry to say.”</p><p>“I’d just like to stand where she was,” Rossi explained once they reached us. Point having been made, I hung back and let the Detective and Rossi lead the way as I fell in at Reid’s side. Hotch <i>had</i> said to stick with him, right? He quirked a smile down at me as we fell into step together, picking our way over the uneven bank. </p><p>“Dr. Reid,” Rossi asked as we made our way further down the river. “Do we still keep all the old files in the fourth-floor storeroom?” </p><p><i>That’s an odd question to ask in the middle of a hike during a case</i>, I mused, though I kept my curiosity to myself. </p><p>“I think some are up there,” he started, then added quickly, “you know, most of our information’s on computers now.”</p><p>“Right,” Rossi sighed, and I frowned a little more. Okay, okay. So maybe Hotch’s hesitation with our newest member was creeping into my own thoughts, but I was more than a little wary of the tone he took on. Reid was unphased. </p><p>“Have you had a chance to go through our data since you’ve been back?”</p><p>“Not yet,” Rossi quipped. I caught the annoyance in his voice and a spark of defensiveness pulsed through me instantly. What Reid had told me a few cases ago had stuck with me. Most people brushed him off and thought he was annoying; he said I was the first one to call him fascinating. I knew how much it hurt having people shut down your enthusiasm and I didn’t want Reid feeling like that. </p><p>“You’ll be amazed,” Reid continued, still oblivious to the change in Rossi’s tone. “The original team, well, I mean <i>you</i>, interviewed something like 45 serial killers, right?”</p><p>“Something like…” Rossi muttered. The defensiveness in me grew, but Reid just kept going. </p><p>“Today we have interviews with over a thousand offenders. Serial killers, child abductors, sex offenders… I’ll go through it with you sometime if you’d like, answer any questions –“</p><p>“Sounds good,” Rossi dismissed sharply. Reid instantly fell quiet and bit down on his lip, eyes falling to his shoes. As Rossi and the Detective turned to head towards the river, where the body had been found. </p><p>The look of dejection on his face was quickly becoming something I couldn’t stand. It hurt to see the excitement die out in his eyes, see the way his lips flickered to try and keep the frown at bay… </p><p>It was my unofficial mission to get that look off his face. </p><p>I hung back and let the other two pass, waiting until Reid was at my side. The moment he was, I gently nudged him with my elbow and got his sullen gaze to lift to me. He blinked curiously as I knelt and grabbed a leaf, holding it up to him. </p><p>“How do you say leaf in Russian?”</p><p>Reid’s face tipped into surprise for a heartbeat but when he caught onto what I was doing a soft, honest smile took over and instantly made my heart skip a beat. He knew instantly I was trying to lift his spirits the way he’d done for me in the car.</p><p>“<i>лист</i>,” he told me with a genuine, appreciative smile. I <i>hmm</i>’d and repeated back to him, </p><p>“<i>Leest</i>. Like, <i>lease</i> with a ‘t’?”</p><p>“Pronunciation-wise, yes. The letters are much different though,” he explained as we began to walk after the other two again. “The alphabet makes learning the language much more difficult. If you get the hang of pronunciation and get familiar with the words, though, it’ll make it easier to understand.”</p><p>“Well, I’ve got <i>leaf</i> and <i>green tea</i> down. I’m just a few steps away from mastering the language,” I teased, enjoying the quiet giggle that escaped him as he grinned, pressing his tongue to his teeth. </p><p>I matched his grin with one of my own, pleased to see the disappointment from Rossi’s attitude was washed away. Reid moved ahead to lead the way to the edge of the river, and as he stepped over a toppled tree trunk, he turned and almost tentatively held out his hand to me. </p><p>Honestly, had it been anyone else, I would’ve pointedly stepped over and strolled past. But I knew Reid wasn’t offering assistance because he thought I needed it. He was being polite; a shy man’s way of thanking me. </p><p>And, okay, I wanted to hold his hand. </p><p>I took his hold and his fingers wrapped over my own, long enough they covered them completely. Not that I definitely noticed that or anything. Reid held my hand steady as I easily stepped over, and then kept his grip as we took another few steps. </p><p>“Grazie,” I told him as we finally let go of one another. Reid’s smile somehow grew as he said back, </p><p>“<i>Пожалуйста</i>.” </p><p>It was like we had our own little inside joke with one another now, and I was glad to see it got him as smiley as it got me. Thankfully the shade helped hide the warmth of my face, because at this point, I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was definitely admitting I liked Reid. </p><p>“Michelle’s body was found here,” the Detective began once we’d reached them, pulling the two of us from our own little world. After a heartbeat of silence he said softly, “I really thought it was just a prank.”</p><p>The men beside me were silent. Reid wasn’t one to discuss emotions and Rossi was focused on the spot the Detective had pointed out, so I stepped up to the plate. </p><p>“You can’t blame yourself for that, you know,” I said, looking up at him as I spoke. He pressed his lips together, shaking his head just a hint, the guilt clear on his face. </p><p>“She… she’d made dinner. She had time to sit down and have dinner before…” he cleared his throat and told me, “there was time to help her –”</p><p>“Water.” </p><p>Detective Yarbrough, Reid, and myself all paused, frowned, and looked over to the man who had been silently staring into the river until that moment. My supportive words for the detective went to the back of my mind as I tugged out my trusty notebook, ready to take notes. </p><p>“It obliterates a body,” Rossi continued, stepping carefully onto a log in the water as he continued to study the scene. “Destroys evidence… but you weren’t in the water that long, were you Michelle?”</p><p>Rossi was fascinating to watch, I’d give him that. Despite the mistrustful attitude and my own bias against his interactions with Reid, everyone in our line of work swore up and down he was one of the best. For now, I’d put my own biases aside. He knelt slowly over the water and I could <i>feel</i> his mind piecing things together, pulling answers from the river we hadn’t even thought to ask for. </p><p>“She had rocks tied to her to weigh her down,” Detective Yarbrough voiced. Reid was clearly picking up on the same brainwaves Rossi was pinpointing because he explained, </p><p>“Except she floated to the surface before there was any other damage.”</p><p>“And what, all that stuff done to her wasn’t enough damage already?” the detective scoffed. I glanced up from my notetaking and explained, </p><p>“What they mean is, this is the first thing the UnSub wasn’t good at.” I looked up at Reid for confirmation and he gave me a pleased head-nod. Rossi stood slowly and made his way to another set of logs as he added,</p><p>“Green River dumped most of the bodies in the water. But <i>they</i> weren’t weighed down.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Reid confirmed, and at the lost look on the detective’s face he elaborated, “we know now it’s because he didn’t care if they were found…” </p><p>I looked up in realization as Reid tapered off. He paused and looked down at me in surprise, realizing we’d just hit the same brainwave. </p><p>“He had no connection to them…”</p><p>“But this guy does,” I finished for him. Rossi was on the bank again before I’d stopped speaking, taking off back the way we’d come. Reid and I scrambled after him with the detective hot on our heels. By the time we reached the edge of the trees we were all out of breath and varying degrees of disheveled. </p><p>Reid and his long legs were a few steps ahead when I paused to wait for the detective. Instantly noticing my absence from his side, he turned to search for me. I nodded towards the SUV as I told him simply, </p><p>“You go ahead, we’ll catch up.”</p><p>“I won’t be far,” he promised, sending another flutter of warmth through me. I gave a quick smile and turned to the detective to hide the inevitable blush. When he reached my side and saw I’d waited, he huffed,</p><p>“I gotta give you credit there, miss. You and those heels scaled these woods like a squirrel on bark.” </p><p>“Thanks, I appreciate the compliment,” I smiled, falling into step with him. After a few moments of silence, I took a breath and looked up at him. “I just… I wanted to tell you, I understand the guilt you’re feeling right now. And I want you to know that, even though it feels like this is your fault, you’re not responsible for what happened to Michelle.”</p><p>Detective Yarbrough’s face twisted into one of heavy, pained regret; he hadn’t been expecting me to say anything about her. Tears instantly sprung to his eyes and he cleared his throat. After another few moments he began, </p><p>“She came to me for help, though. I shoulda taken her seriously –“</p><p>“You’re human, Detective. It was normal for you to think this was just a prank; there was nothing to make you believe this was a real threat.”</p><p>“But she <i>came to me</i>,” he managed, voice rough with the emotion he was holding back. “It was my job to protect her –“</p><p>“You did the best you could with what you had at the time,” I said softly, giving him a sad smile. “You can’t be expected to predict when a criminal’s gonna attack. It’s no different than if she’d come to you saying she thought her neighbor was going to rob a bank. If there’s no proof of that, no reason to believe that he’s really planning on doing that, what sense would it make for you to put the bank on lockdown and arrest the neighbor on her word?” </p><p>He paused and I came to a stop at his side. His head was bowed and he didn’t say anything at first. I stepped up and rested a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him as best I could. </p><p>“I know what it feels like. I really do. My brother died because he was driving drunk. And for a really long time I felt like I was responsible, because I knew he drank, and I knew he left at night to drive around. I always told myself there was more I could’ve done. But you know what?” the detective looked down to me, tear-bright eyes flicking between my own. “We are not responsible for the decisions someone else makes. I’m not responsible for what my brother chose to do, and <i>you’re</i> not responsible for what this UnSub chose to do. What we control is how we handle the fallout of those decisions.”</p><p>We stood silently for another several moments as my words settled over us in the early Dallas morning. Detective Yarbrough took a shaky breath, cleared his throat again, and gave a small nod. He hadn’t looked up at me again, but when I let my hand drop off his arm to continue to the SUV he said softly, </p><p>“I appreciate those words, miss. Thank you.”</p><p>Before I could respond he was already taking off for the vehicle, reaching up to quickly rub the tears out of his eyes. For a few moments I held back to let him have his privacy, and not a minute later, Reid was back at my side.  </p><p>“That was really wonderful of you to do,” he began as well fell into step together, headed for the SUV. A small smile came to my face and I shrugged my shoulders to dismiss it as he pressed, “it really was. I – I’m not very good with things like that. The emotional connections or… well, anything with feelings. You could tell he was still upset, just from that comment he’d made earlier. I had no idea.”</p><p>His compliment settled deep into my chest, warming me to my core. Being able to pick up on people’s emotions and unspoken thoughts and feelings was one of the reasons I loved studying psychology. Having Reid notice what I’d done told me I was definitely in the right career path, and plus it meant I’d gotten to use my schooling to help someone.</p><p>“Guilt is destructive. If you hold onto it too long it can tear you apart,” I told him simply, glancing up at him. “No one should have to hold onto that. I just wanted to help him the best way I could.”</p><p>“You did,” he assured, his soft brown eyes crinkling at the edges with the smile he gave me. As we reached the SUV we paused and he said genuinely, “I overheard you the other day telling Garcia you think you’re not helpful because you can’t contribute fully as a profiler, but you’re still an asset to the team. Empathy and genuine kindness aren’t traits you can learn, and that makes you essential to us, even without all the training.”</p><p>Reid’s words left me speechless. Okay, I know he’d just told me he wasn’t good with emotions and feelings, but I <i>swear</i> he was better at cheering me up than I’d just been with the detective. It was hard being an intern that didn’t even know how to do an <i>interview</i>, let alone profile a scene without everyone and their mom holding my hand. Hearing that I was essential… </p><p>“That really means a lot, Reid,” I told him, honest grin taking over. He instantly ducked his head but I saw the shy smile take over his face. “Between you and me, though, I think you’re a lot better at connecting with people than you give yourself credit for.”</p><p>Reid actually laughed at that, shaking his head, and he leaned past me to open the door. I expected him to get in, so when he stepped aside for <i>me</i> I suddenly forgot how to move. Or think. </p><p>“You think so?”</p><p>His question sparked my brain into functioning again and I scurried forward, trying not to blush brighter than I already was. My cheeks were just gonna turn permanently pink at this point. </p><p>“You’re doing a pretty good job with me,” I assured with a simple shrug of my shoulders before I climbed into the car. Reid shut my door for me and, though we were quiet on the ride back to the station, the smile never left his face.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y'all are truly the best, you know that? I can't thank you enough for all the support you've given myself and the story! I'm so happy to hear you're liking it so far and I love reading your comments! I'm still taking suggestions on what things you'd want to see for chapters between cases - if you have any ideas or requests feel free to ask!</p><p>You can also check out recollins.tumblr.com, I post extra stuff for Aria and even do rabbles and requests for Criminal Minds characters (not just Spencer!). </p><p>Thank you so much for reading, and as always if you've got a few moments I'd love to hear what you thought!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Skeevy JerkFace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x06 - About Face</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Why I’d agreed to this, I didn’t know. </p>
<p>It would’ve been so simple to tell Hotch, <i>No, thanks, I’ll sit this one out and just take notes.</i> As it had been happening recently, my words had blurted out before I’d fully thought through if I’d wanted to say them or not. </p>
<p>Giving my thoughts on a profile to the team was nerve-wracking enough. Speaking in front of the entire Dallas PD? I wasn’t ready for that. It was too late to back out now, though. We were already halfway through the profile and it was getting closer to my speaking point. Standing in the middle of the station with more than fifteen officers hanging on every word the team was saying had me rooted to the spot, heart in my throat. </p>
<p>Public speaking was always something I’d struggled with. I hated being the center of attention and now all eyes were gonna be on me. Even with Reid to my left and Hotch to my right I was barely breathing, notebook clutched so tight I thought it’d crumble.</p>
<p>“Witnesses in Enid White’s neighborhood say they saw a white male putting up fliers in the neighborhood, but none of them could describe him <i>even</i> with all the media attention this case has received,” Hotch voiced, snapping me out of my panicked thoughts. Almost time. <i>Deep breaths, Aria. Deep breaths</i>.</p>
<p>“Great. That doesn’t seem like a good thing,” one of the officers sighed; Emily was quick to jump in. </p>
<p>“Actually, what that tells us is that there is absolutely <i>nothing</i> remarkable about this man. He is exceedingly average. Average height, average build.”</p>
<p>“That extends to his professional life as well,” Reid jumped in. “He most likely works in a field where he doesn’t stand out, doesn’t really make a mark.”</p>
<p>Hotch caught my eye and gave a nod; time for me to speak. As Reid fell quiet I glanced at my notebook. </p>
<p>“His, um, his lack of distinction is part of his psychopathy,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice from shaking as much as my hand. Morgan caught my eye across the floor and gave a reassuring smile as I took a breath. I could do this. I just had to talk about psychology. That’s what I was good at, right? “We – we have hundreds of interactions with people every day. Most of those involve someone overlooking someone else. Most, um… most of us don’t pay any attention to being ignored, but to this UnSub, every oversight is personal and intentional.”</p>
<p>“How does that tie to the victims, though?” Detective Yarbrough asked, frowning. A quick glance at Hotch told me to keep going. I took a breath and explained, </p>
<p>“The victims are objects of his sexual desire. He obsesses over his victim until she’s all he thinks about. Each unintentional oversight on her part is a direct attack towards him and his exaggerated feelings for her. That develops into rage, and once the rage has built enough he has to attack –“</p>
<p>“What, you’re tryin’ to say he’s pissed off no one’s <i>noticing</i> him?” one of the officers scoffed, shaking his head. Morgan jumped to my defense instantly. </p>
<p>“<i>Have you seen me.</i> Those fliers ain’t about the women.”</p>
<p>“They’re not?” Detective Yarbrough asked doubtfully. Emily shook her head and explained,</p>
<p>“No, the masks are about the women. Number one, number two. The fliers are probably referring to him.”</p>
<p>Finally I was out of the spotlight; I’d been about two seconds away from melting into a puddle on the floor. Letting out a shaky breath, I shifted back just a hint to duck a little more behind the men on either side of me. </p>
<p>“Removing his victims’ faces transfers his feelings of being ignored into a mission,” Reid agreed. “And that gives him a sense of power.”</p>
<p>“And the power can make him arrogant, but it doesn’t make him notable,” Hotch explained. Detective Yarbrough shook his head, still looking uncertain. </p>
<p>“How the hell are we supposed to catch an <i>invisible man</i>?”</p>
<p>“We’re pretty sure we can get him to contact you,” Emily revealed. As Detective Yarbrough made a noise of surprise, Hotch stepped up to say,</p>
<p>“The crime scenes have shown he’s trying to deliver his message to the police. He hasn’t gone public. If we can play on his anger –“</p>
<p>The TV on the wall opposite Reid and I caught my attention as it switched from the broadcaster to the mask from the first murder. My jaw dropped; JJ had been fighting all day to keep that away from the media! </p>
<p>“Um, Hotch, I think we’ve got a problem,” I said quickly, grabbing his arm. His gaze instantly fell to me in concern, checking to see if I was alright. I nodded to the TV and he glanced over his shoulder. His face fell and instantly he pinched the bridge of his nose. As the rest of us gathered closer, the officers around us took the cue and scattered off throughout the station.</p>
<p>“JJ, how did they get that?” Hotch growled.</p>
<p>She looked quickly between us and shook her head, bewildered as we all were. </p>
<p>“Not from me. I – Hotch, I called all the local police departments, I stressed withholding the mask –“</p>
<p>“Oh, I called them,” Rossi announced, strolling in from the other room. All of us froze, staring at him in various levels of confusion and frustration. The hand on Hotch’s face dropped and he fixed a dangerous stare on the newest member of the team. I had half a mind to scatter off after the officers.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Rossi shrugged. </p>
<p>“I said the FBI thinks the masks mean he’s impotent.”</p>
<p>All I could do was gape at Rossi; I could <i>feel</i> Hotch’s fury boiling to the surface. All of us turned slowly to stare at our leader, knowing this wasn’t gonna end well. Ever the professional, Hotch just quipped out, </p>
<p>“Can I speak to you for a second?” </p>
<p>He didn’t even wait for a response, stalking off for one of the conference rooms before he lost his cool. I glanced around at the rest of the team, at a loss for what to do. Reid, still at my side, met my bewildered stare with one of his own. </p>
<p>For a handful of minutes we stood in awkward silence, eyeing one another, waiting for a move to be made. When Morgan’s phone went off the five of us practically jumped together as he answered and threw Penelope on speakerphone. </p>
<p>“Hey baby girl. What’s up?” </p>
<p>“I think I’ve got something you guys are gonna want to hear,” she started quickly. “Is everyone there?”</p>
<p>“Almost. Hang on,” he told her, and then looked down at me. “Sunshine, can you go grab Hotch and Rossi?”</p>
<p>My eyes widened and I gave him an incredulous look. </p>
<p>“What? Why me?!”</p>
<p>“Your skills at handling an escalated situation are impeccable,” JJ told me instantly. I narrowed my eyes at her and she gave me a wide grin. </p>
<p>“Right,” I said slowly. “<i>You</i> just don’t wanna be the one to go and get them.”</p>
<p>JJ held her smile, though I saw the corners of her lips twitch. “I mean, I’d be happy to, but…”</p>
<p>“<i>But</i> this is part of your internship. Learning how to deal with escalated inner-team situations,” Emily stepped in. She actually giggled at my unamused frown. Thinking I could get Morgan to help me throw one of them – hell, maybe even <i>both</i> of them – under the proverbial bus, I turned to him only to be met with a devilish grin of his own. </p>
<p><i>Damn it</i>.</p>
<p>“This is <i>all</i> you, sunshine. You got that cute lil face Hotch won’t tear into for interruptin’ whatever’s goin’ down in there,” he told me with a shrug, not even trying to hide the devious look between him, Emily, and JJ. Somehow, the three of them were plotting telepathically, I just knew it. Before I could start in on him, Morgan looked over my head and smirked at someone behind me. “Ain’t that right?”</p>
<p>I turned to see Reid at my shoulder, giving Morgan a wide-eyed stare. When he noticed my eyes on him, though, he gave a quick shrug and to my surprise his cheeks tinted pink. Did he feel bad I was being singled out, or… did he think I had a cute face? Not wanting to make him answer – and because either way I was probably gonna end up blushing with whatever he said – I huffed and turned for the room they’d disappeared to.</p>
<p>“<i>Fine</i>. You all owe me one, though,” I added, throwing a frown over my shoulder at the group as I sulked towards the conference room. Morgan actually waved as he called cheerily,</p>
<p>“Put a lil pep in your step, kid, we’re on the clock!”</p>
<p>I was poisoning his coffee the next chance I got. </p>
<p>Taking a breath, I crept towards the door, glancing back nervously towards the group. Emily offered a thumbs up as JJ nodded eagerly at her side before they slipped into the conference room we’d set up in. I rolled my eyes at the two of them, about to knock when I heard the hushed arguing on the other side. I paused, hand half raised, straining to hear the sharp words being thrown back and forth. </p>
<p>“<i>I’ve been doing this before you were out of high school. Probably before the rest of your team was in school at all</i>,” Rossi said sharply, and instantly Hotch snapped back, </p>
<p>“<i>I know that. Things have changed</i>.”</p>
<p>“<i>The bells and whistles changed. An UnSub is still an UnSub, Aaron, and I know how to deal with an UnSub</i>.”</p>
<p>Oh god, I <i>really</i> didn’t wanna walk into that. I moved to run back to the team and force one of the others to go instead. As if he sensed my hesitancy, Morgan leaned out of the conference room and met my gaze, circling his finger in the air to tell me to hurry it up. He was right… we had a time-sensitive case and, I mean, Hotch <i>probably</i> wouldn’t tear into me too, right? At least not in front of the Dallas PD. </p>
<p>I knocked twice on the door and then eased it open. </p>
<p>“No, Dave, it’s not just that –“</p>
<p>“Um, Hotch?” both men turned to fix their scowls on me, Hotch instantly biting out a sharp, </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>My eyes widened as I squeaked out, “Penelope said she has something for us. The team’s in the other room.”</p>
<p>He softened the steel in his look and gave me a brisk nod, heading my way with determination as he left Rossi behind. I stepped to the side and let him lead the way as I scampered behind him. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said quietly, pausing before we went inside. I gave him a warm smile and shrugged. </p>
<p>“I know you didn’t. It’s alright.”</p>
<p>As expected, he didn’t smile back, but he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling the door open for me. </p>
<p>Skirting into the room, I plunked into the open seat beside Reid as Hotch settled into the one next to me. A moment later Rossi stepped in and, instead of sitting at the table, he crossed to the case board and put his back to us. I didn’t miss Hotch’s frown getting impossibly deeper. I met Emily and JJ’s eyes across the table and we all pulled faces at the tension building around us. </p>
<p>“Garcia, talk to us,” Morgan said, plunking his cell into the center of the table. The rest of us leaned in to listen. </p>
<p>“So, Michelle Colucci recently drew up the plans for a remodel of three floors of a company called TechCo communications.”</p>
<p>“And Enid White?” Hotch prompted, already knowing where this was going. </p>
<p>“She worked there until two months ago –“</p>
<p>“He’s on line two,” Detective Yarbrough barked, appearing behind myself and Hotch without warning. I stifled the squeak of alarm and managed to keep my jump to a minimum; Morgan and Emily fought to hide their snickers of amusement. <i>Seriously</i>, why couldn’t people announce themselves at a normal volume?!</p>
<p>“The UnSub?” Hotch asked in disbelief, and the Detective nodded. </p>
<p>“Demanded to speak to the FBI.”</p>
<p>Hotch instantly switched his piercing gaze to Rossi instead. They stared one another down for another handful of seconds, tense silence building around the table until Rossi stepped forward and hit the <i>line 2</i> button on the station phone. </p>
<p>“This is FBI Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi.”</p>
<p>There was a ragged breath on the phone and then, “<i>You called me impotent</i>.”</p>
<p>“Did I?” Rossi asked slowly, and instantly the man on the other end hissed,</p>
<p>“<i>I’m not impotent</i>.”</p>
<p>“Why are you whispering?” Rossi asked; at this, Hotch sat up a bit. I skimmed the most recent notes we’d compiled and scribbled <i>in a crowded place</i>? Hotch nodded, which meant we’d gotten another piece of the puzzle. </p>
<p>“<i>You lied</i>,” the man growled, and instantly Rossi pressed,</p>
<p>“Is someone around you? Are you at work?”</p>
<p>I could see the wheels turning in the profilers around me. Though all silent, the others were exchanging glances and nods, clearly on a mind-reading brainwave level I hadn’t unlocked yet. It was times like these where I felt like I wasn’t supposed to be at the table with them. What kind of help could I be when I didn’t even know what was going on?</p>
<p>When I dropped my eyes back to my notes, trying not to let the irritation with myself take over, Reid reached over and turned my notebook towards himself. In what had to be <i>the</i> messiest handwriting I’d ever see, he scribbled at the bottom of the page, <i>Michelle Colucci’s work</i> so that I’d be included with the rest of the silent conversation. Underneath his scribble, I wrote a quick <i>Grazie :)</i>; the shy smile he gave sent the butterflies fluttering again. </p>
<p>“<i>You have to tell the news the truth</i>,” the UnSub demanded, drawing my attention off the cute profiler at my side. </p>
<p>“I’ll get you on the news, then you can correct me yourself,” Rossi countered, and the man snarled, </p>
<p>“<i>No! You – YOU correct it</i>!”</p>
<p>Rossi smirked at the phone, tucking his hands in his pockets as he said idly, </p>
<p>“By the way, I was looking at the police security tapes for the day Michelle Colucci went missing.” The other six of us looked over to him in surprise. Tapes? We hadn’t heard there were tapes.</p>
<p>“<i>What</i>?”</p>
<p>“You watched her long enough to know she didn’t have visitors,” Rossi continued. The puzzled frown on my face mirrored the one Hotch gave me when I looked up at him for an explanation. At least I wasn’t the only one totally lost. “She was a loner. Yet, you knew Detective Yarbrough was coming over. You must’ve been here in this station when he told her.”</p>
<p>There was no answer this time and Rossi leaned on the table, a dangerous smile spreading over his face as he pressed, </p>
<p>“Your face is going to be on one of those tapes. And when I find it, I’m gonna paper the city with it, just like you did those women. Everyone will see it. They won’t be able to ignore you now. But you won’t inspire fear, you’ll inspire hatred and ridicule. Because the only power someone like you has is a mask.”</p>
<p>My mouth popped open and I scrambled to close it, though my wide-eyed stare didn’t waver. I met Emily’s same expression across the table, and instantly I looked up to Hotch. What the hell was Rossi doing?!</p>
<p>Hotch held up a finger to Rossi, and instead of stopping Rossi held up <i>his</i> finger in return. Yeah, the man was <i>definitely</i> Italian. Despite his questionable methods, I was a fan of his approach. His passion and temper brought him to a superior, sassy height over the UnSub that was clearly flustering the furious man straight to the core. Although, whether that was necessarily a good thing right now….</p>
<p>“And once that mask is removed, you’ll be as insignificant as you’ve always been – <i>a loser.</i>”</p>
<p>The entire team sat in stunned silence as Rossi finally fell quiet. Morgan’s wide eyes flicked to me, to Hotch, and then warily to Rossi. I was right there with him. I leaned back as Hotch leaned forward and Reid copied me. We side-eyed one another in agreeing alarm as we all waited to hear the UnSub’s answer. </p>
<p>“<i>You... just signed Enid White’s death warrant</i>.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The ride to the TechCo building was tense and awkward. I’d ended up in the SUV with Rossi and Hotch. Emily and I sat stone still and deathly quiet the whole ride, stealing uneasy glances at one another the entire fifteen minutes while Hotch and Rossi snapped at one another. </p>
<p>Only once did Emily try and cut in with something to say, and that earned her a steeled scowl in the rearview mirror. We’d barely dared to breath since. As soon as we parked, the two of us were scrambling out of the back, scampering ahead to meet up with the others.  </p>
<p>Detective Yarbrough was already inside, but Reid and Morgan had waited for us to arrive. They gathered around us instantly as we rushed for the building, and Morgan nudged the two of us as we went. </p>
<p>“How much fun was <i>that</i> ride?” Morgan murmured, smirk on his face; Emily and I threw identical scowls over our shoulders at the boys behind us.</p>
<p>“On the way back you two are sitting through that,” she hissed as Morgan reached out to hold the door for her. Reid came up beside me and did the same with the other door for me.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” I told him with a smile, and added on a whim, “you’re still riding back with Hotch.” </p>
<p>Reid bit back a toothy smile, following me inside as we gathered in the lobby with the Detective. Instantly Hotch turned to look us over. </p>
<p>“Yarbrough, help the security team keep the building secured. No one in or out.” As the detective took off, Hotch looked around at us. </p>
<p>“We’re looking for a rank-and-file employee who made a scene in the last twenty minutes, or who was here and gone. Don’t approach him, just try to get a name, maybe a picture. Michelle Colucci remodeled floors seven and nine. Reid and Prentiss, take floor nine.”</p>
<p>Emily and Reid raced off down the hall immediately and Hotch turned to us. </p>
<p>“Morgan and Aria, I want you on floor seven. Aria, do not leave Morgan’s side. Am I clear?”</p>
<p>“Crystal,” I promised him with a small nod. Morgan put a hand on my shoulder and tugged me to him. </p>
<p>“She ain’t leavin’ me. C’mon sunshine.”</p>
<p>Morgan let us to the set of elevators Reid and Emily had just gone up. Once inside on our way to the seventh floor, Morgan nudged my arm with his and I looked up, raising a brow in question. </p>
<p>“Reid told me about what you said to Yarbrough.”</p>
<p>“He did?” I asked, genuinely surprised. Morgan nodded, and a proud smile took over his face as he said, </p>
<p>“You handled that well. Like, <i>JJ-smoothing-over-the press</i> well. What you said probably helped keep his head in the game, which is exactly what we need if we want to save Enid White. That’s hard to do, kid.”</p>
<p>“I know what he’s going through,” I said, shrugging my shoulders as my fingers tangled into the hem of my skirt; I watched them for a moment before I added, “I didn’t have anyone to tell me not to be guilty, so I take any chance I can to save someone else that pain.”</p>
<p>Morgan smiled at me as we reached the seventh floor, nudging me out ahead of him and falling into step with me. </p>
<p>“Guess <i>lil miss sunshine</i> is a good name for you,” he teased, and in response I gave him a wide, cheesy grin. The hall led us to a huge, open room filled wall-to-wall with cubicles. There was a secretary’s desk to the left and Morgan led us straight to it. </p>
<p>The woman seated behind it looked up with a frown, but when Morgan showed her his badge her eyes widened she said quickly, </p>
<p>“What can I help you with?”</p>
<p>“We just need a moment of your time, ma’am,” he assured, flashing a smile that could melt Penelope from here. “In the last twenty minutes, have any of your employees caused a scene, left suddenly, anything out of the ordinary?”</p>
<p>The woman shook her head quickly and said,</p>
<p>“No, not that we’ve seen. Most of the people here right now just got in for the afternoon shift about an hour ago, and there haven’t been any issues.”</p>
<p>“Do you have anyone that was here and left early?” I added, trying to think of any possible way this guy could’ve left. The woman <i>hmm</i>’d and tapped away at her keyboard, but shook her head a moment later. </p>
<p>“No, only a few call outs, but they never came in.”</p>
<p>“That’s a huge help. Thank you for your time,” Morgan said with another warm smile. We kept quiet until we came back around the corner, and then we both deflated. </p>
<p>“Maybe he was on Reid and Emily’s floor,” I offered, slinking onto the elevator reluctantly. If they’d struck out too, though, the odds weren’t looking good for Enid’s safety. Morgan sighed and nodded, folding his arms over his chest. </p>
<p>“Well with the building locked down, if he’s here, we’ll find him one way or another.” As I nodded, Morgan nudged my foot with his. “That was good thinkin’, though, askin’ that question. I hadn’t thought of that.”</p>
<p>“I was hoping to come up with <i>something</i>,” I sighed. “I didn’t wanna go back to Hotch empty-handed.”</p>
<p>“Ay, it’s okay. We’ll regroup and come up with another plan,” he reassured. The doors slid open at the main floor and Morgan’s hand fell to my back, ushering me out ahead of him. </p>
<p>Turning to look back at him, about to tease him for being a gentleman, I froze in my tracks at the sight in front of me. Rossi and Hotch, guns drawn and aimed our direction. I heard the click of a gun behind me and my heart slammed to a stop. </p>
<p>“<i>Down</i>!” Hotch cried. My hand flew back on instinct and tangled into Morgan’s shirt as his arms wrapped around me, dropping us down. We pitched forward and hit the ground hard just as two shots went off overhead. Morgan kept himself angled in front of me as he flipped onto his back, somehow getting his gun drawn before I even registered the body that had dropped just a few feet from us. </p>
<p>Hotch skirted past us a second later to swipe the gun from the UnSub’s hand before he turned to Morgan and I, concern in his eyes. </p>
<p>“Are you both okay?”</p>
<p>“I’m good,” Morgan assured, then reached back and rested a hand on my back, easing me to sit up as my heart finally started beating again. I sank into his touch as I did a mental check of myself. “Sunshine?” </p>
<p>“No bullet holes. I’m okay,” I breathed shakily, then tipped my head back and gave Rossi a small smile. </p>
<p>“Nice reflexes.”</p>
<p>He quirked part of a smile at me as Morgan stood, offering me a hand. Thankfully he slung an arm around my shoulder, tugging me to lean against him as I tried to keep the adrenaline from taking me out. From behind us we heard Emily call, </p>
<p>“Everyone good?”</p>
<p>The four of us turned to see she and Reid weaving through the security guards and panicked employees. </p>
<p>“We are, but we still don’t know about Enid White,” Morgan pointed out as they paused in front of us. Reid held up his cell phone and gave a small smile. </p>
<p>“Garcia was able to track down the UnSub’s address, and JJ took some officers to check it out.”</p>
<p>“Did they find Enid?” I asked eagerly. </p>
<p>“She said the ambulance just left to take her to the hospital, but she seems to be doing just fine,” Reid assured with a smile. The rest of us let out a collective breath of relief as we felt the door shut on this case. </p>
<p>“I think we’re all ready to go home,” Hotch said quietly, jerking his head towards the door. Morgan kept his arm around my shoulders, pulling me with him as Reid and Emily fell into step on either side of us. All things considered, we’d managed to stop the UnSub before he could hurt another innocent woman, and we’d gotten through it together in mostly one piece.</p>
<p>That was a pretty good day.  </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Morgan,” I laughed, nudging his hand off my arm as I tugged the sleeve of my shrug back down. “It’s <i>just</i> a bruise. It’s not a big deal.”</p>
<p>“I’m really sorry,” he started again. Ever since he’d seen my ‘injury’ he hadn’t quit apologizing, no matter how many times I swore it was fine. As I rolled my eyes up to give him a playful scowl, another teasing voice piped up,</p>
<p>“She was almost shot by an UnSub but, clearly, a bruised elbow is worse.”</p>
<p>Morgan fixed a dry look over my shoulder at Reid as I snorted and gave him a playful nudge. </p>
<p>“I appreciate your concern, cocoa crisp,” I teased; he dropped his dry look to <i>me</i> instead. What? I liked nicknames. “But really, Reid’s right, just like always. You saved me from being shot. A bruise is like my tender little trophy for not getting killed.”</p>
<p>He reached out and roped me into a one-armed hug, and I wrapped my own around his waist. </p>
<p>“I’m just glad you’re okay, sunshine.”</p>
<p>“<i>I’m</i> just glad you have the reflexes of a highly-trained assassin,” I joked as we pulled apart. Morgan snorted and ruffled my hair as I stepped back. “<i>Hey</i>!”</p>
<p>“What? I was just fixin’ it for you. Oh, you got another spot…” he reached for me again and I skirted back to Reid, ducking by to keep him between Morgan and I as I swatted his hand away. The boys laughed as I haughtily fixed my now-haphazard ponytail, throwing them the most ferocious scowl I had. Admittedly, being a foot shorter than both of them took a lot of my credibility away... </p>
<p>“No harassing my precious, injured honeybee!” Penelope chastised, bustling across the bullpen with a cup of tea in one hand and an ice pack in the other. Oh lord, she was worse than Morgan. I’d told her a dozen times I was <i>just fine</i>. “She needs to rest!”</p>
<p>“Penelope, really, I’m –“</p>
<p>The look she fixed me with had me shutting my mouth instantly. Arguing with Morgan was one thing; I wasn’t crossing the wild mama bear. She pushed the tea into my hands and wrapped her arm around me to tuck me into a hug, skillfully pressing the ice pack against my elbow in the same move. </p>
<p>“Okay, okay. Looks like the gremlin’s in good hands for the night,” Morgan teased, slinging his bag over his shoulder and roping Reid against him with his free arm. “We’ll see you ladies in the morning.”</p>
<p>“Goodnight!” Penelope and I sing-songed as they started to walk away. Penelope moved my hand to hold the ice pack in place as she hurried back to the break area to grab her own drink. As soon as I was alone, Reid paused and turned back to me. He caught my eye and gave one of his timid, soft smiles. </p>
<p>“I, um, I just wanted to say you… you did really good during the profile this morning.”</p>
<p>Surprised to hear that, I just gave a chuckle and dismissed, “really? I felt like I just stumbled all over my words and got Detective Yarbrough all worked up.”</p>
<p>“No, not at all,” he assured me, smile growing as he twisted his hands around the strap of his satchel. “It’s nerve wracking the first few times, but you did a lot better than I did my first time. I think you’re a natural.”</p>
<p>“Thanks Reid, that means a lot,” I managed, feeling like my heart was about to jump out of my chest and go hug him itself. How did he manage to get me <i>this</i> flustered with a simple compliment?!</p>
<p>“Ay, pretty boy! Let’s go!” Morgan called from the elevator. As he started to back towards the lobby, Reid quirked a toothy smile at me and held up his hand to wave at me before turning to hurry off, nodding at Penelope in passing.</p>
<p>For a moment I was worried that my best friend had caught onto my <i>definite</i> crushing. She had a devious, dangerous smile on her lips as she approached, which didn’t bode well for me. I mean, I could <i>feel</i> the blush burning on my cheeks, and I knew I looked way too happy for someone who was just saying goodnight to a coworker…</p>
<p>Except when Penelope reached me, all she did was once again wrap me into her hold and usher me to my chair. Once she settled me down, she hitched a hip onto my desk and her grin somehow widened. </p>
<p>“Oh no. That’s a trouble face. What’d you do?” I asked warily. She clapped her hands together in excitement and gushed, </p>
<p>“Not only is Christopher Michael Reynolds single –“ oh <i>god</i> not this again… “ – he’s a runner so he keeps himself in shape, his credit score is 780, <i>and</i> he’s an Eagle Scout. Plus –“</p>
<p>“Did you seriously dig up stuff on that poor guy?!” I groaned, slumping into my chair, ice pack plopping to the floor. “Penelope, seriously, I’m not interested in him!”</p>
<p>“Aria I <i>know</i> you have self-confidence issues but trust me when I say you’re <i>the</i> cutest thing on two legs this side of the Mississippi river,” she insisted, pushing off my desk with a look of determination, ignoring the blink of mild confusion I gave her at that. “I know that jerk-face ex hurt you, and made you feel like you’re not the absolutely amazing woman you are, so we’re fixing that. You and I are marching down there right now and getting you a date.”</p>
<p>“What? It’s like ten o’clock,” I objected; to my horror she was already backing towards the glass doors. “He’s probably long gone –“</p>
<p>“He’s pulling overtime right now,” she informed me with a devious smile. “He’s saving up a down payment on a house, by the way. Very financially responsible <i>and</i> planning for his future. Which could be <i>your</i> future if we play our cards right –“</p>
<p>“Hey, uh-uh,” I panicked, scrambling out of the chair as she turned to bustle to the elevator. “<i>Penelope</i>! No! He’s not my type –“</p>
<p>“He’s gorgeous, responsible, and he’s skilled at tying knots,” she threw a wink over her shoulder at that. “How can first-floor hottie <i>not</i> be your future husband?”</p>
<p>She’d hit the elevator button and if I didn’t get her to stop, she really <i>would</i> go play matchmaker. </p>
<p>“I don’t like him, I like Reid, okay?” I rushed out desperately. Penelope whipped around so fast she nearly fell, mouth dropping into an ‘O’ as she gasped and clutched at her heart. For several painful moments all we did was stare wide-eyed at one another, frozen with the bombshell I’d just thrown out. Almost instantly I regretted my words, even though they <i>did</i> have the intended effect….</p>
<p>“<i>OHMYGOSH WHAT</i>!?” she squealed, finally breaking out of her shocked trance to rush for me at an alarming speed. </p>
<p>“It’s – okay, hang on, I don’t wanna talk about this here,” I tried to deflect, realizing Hotch and Rossi were both still talking in his office. The last thing I needed was anyone else finding out about my stupid crush. </p>
<p>In an instant Penelope linked her arm with mine and began towing me down the hall to her office, despite my objections. She practically threw me inside, shut <i>and</i> locked the door, and then spun to face me. </p>
<p>“You like Reid?” I sighed, but gave a small, single nod; she squealed. “As in, Spencer Reid. <i>Doctor</i> Spencer Reid. <i>Our</i> Reid –“</p>
<p>“How many <i>Reid</i>’s do you know?” I quipped, and she shrugged. </p>
<p>“Three. You really like Reid?”</p>
<p>“<i>Yes</i>, Pen. I do. It’s just a dumb crush, but I mean it when I say Chris isn’t my type, okay?”</p>
<p>I was expecting her to tease me about Reid, like Morgan seemed to love doing, or even joke about why I might like him. Instead, she grinned at me as she clapped her hands together, actually bouncing up and down as she gushed, </p>
<p>“That’s so sweet. Oh my gosh, I can totally see it. He’s such a wonderful guy. He’s such a sweetheart, and he’s <i>so</i> smart. Which, of course, you already know –“ she paused, frowned, and then went completely still. “Wait. Why is your crush <i>dumb</i>?”</p>
<p>Well, I hadn’t been planning on going into this all tonight… but you know what? I’d already jumped in, I might as well go whole-haul. Besides, finally being able to talk to someone other than myself about my ridiculous feelings would probably help me figure everything out. </p>
<p>“He’s just… Reid’s brilliant. He’s so sweet, and clever, and he’s <i>so</i> cute. And then there’s <i>me</i>. I’m not even a profiler,” I sighed, dropping into one of the chairs and propping my chin in my hand. “He has to <i>literally</i> write things out for me to pick up on them. I’m a chubby, weird, clueless little hobbit. He’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny, Pen.”</p>
<p>My friend grabbed her own chair and settled across from me, resting her hands on my knees and ducking to catch my eye. She gave me a small smile and shook her head. </p>
<p>“I know you’re the uber-smart profiling intern, but you’re completely wrong on all of that, my sweet.” When I didn’t answer she squeezed my legs gently and pressed, “is this because of Connor?”</p>
<p>Bubbles of unease rose up through me and I gave a heavy sigh, shrugging my shoulders. Penelope was patient, letting me get my thoughts together, trying to figure out how to tell her about him without telling her <i>all</i> about him. There were still things I wasn’t about to put out there, no matter how much I loved my best friend.</p>
<p>“He was – he still <i>is</i> an asshole. The only God-given talent he has is being a manipulative narcissist, and he honed his skills on me every day for five years.” Penelope frowned but nodded, encouraging me to continue. “Every single day there was something I did wrong. I’d order food at the restaurant the wrong way, or buy the wrong kind of chips, or drink water the wrong way –“</p>
<p>“What’s even the <i>right</i> way to drink water?” she asked incredulously. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, giving Penelope a look. </p>
<p>“Ask <i>him</i>, because clearly I don’t know. I couldn’t do anything right in his eyes. If he didn’t know how to do something and I did, he mocked me for being a know-it-all. But if <i>I</i> didn’t know something, I was stupid. He could get in my head and make me second-guess everything I said and did. I felt like I was just a stupid, useless little girl. When he wasn’t criticizing my actions, he went after my looks. My curls are messy and unattractive. My nose is too small, my lips are too big, my <i>teeth</i> are too big, my eyes are a weird color –“</p>
<p>“He seriously got on you about the color of your <i>eyes</i>?” she asked in disbelief. I nodded and pressed my lips together. </p>
<p>“He’d pick me apart however he could. I was too short but my legs look bad in heels. I need to dress up but I’m too chubby to look good in what I wore. He never told me I looked good, or complimented me, unless I asked him to. And then it was just ‘<i>why wouldn’t you look good</i>’ instead of a yes, or most of the time just a straight <i>no</i>. If I asked what he thought of an outfit, there was always a <i>but</i>. ‘Yeah, that’s okay but I don’t like dresses’. Then he’d totally ogle girls we’d pass by and comment how good they looked in <i>their</i> dresses.”</p>
<p>“So if it was someone else it looked good, but it was never you. Like no matter what you did you weren’t enough,” Penelope said softly in understanding. “Oh Aria, my little sweet pea. That’s just… I don’t even…” </p>
<p>She stood up suddenly and leaned down, wrapping me in a tight, secure hug. Instantly my arms went around her and the genuine compassion she gave me had tears pooling in my eyes. I’d been working hard to get past the self-doubt Connor had planted in me over the years, but some days were harder than others. And with him texting and calling me again…</p>
<p>I clung to Penelope and buried my face in her shoulder as I cried. All she did was hold me tight to her, arms keeping me secure as her hands ran up and down my back. I used her warmth to ground myself again and when I finally pulled back, tears reducing to sniffling, the ache in my chest had eased up significantly. Penelope sat back in her chair, but she didn’t go far. She took my hands in her own to remind me I wasn’t alone as she told me gently, </p>
<p>“First, we’re never saying that name again. From this moment on he’s Skeevy JerkFace. Okay?” Despite it all, I giggled and nodded. Pen reached out, cupping my face now as she swept her thumbs over my cheeks, wiping the tears away. “I know you probably don’t believe it right now but trust me when I say you <i>are</i> beautiful, Aria. You’re an amazing, gorgeous, sweet ray of sunshine and all that crud that Skeevy JerkFace told you was just to make him feel better about himself, because you were <i>way</i> too good for him.”</p>
<p>“I’m trying to tell myself that, you know?” I sniffed, shrugging my shoulders as I took a few more deep breaths. “It’s just… I heard it every day for five years. And when I try to see myself as anything else… all I see is what he told me I am.”</p>
<p>“Alright, so until <i>you</i> can see yourself in the right light, I’ll be your seeing-eye-friend,” she announced, proud grin on her face; I actually snorted. “And, as your eyes, I can tell you that I <i>definitely</i> see Reid liking you.”</p>
<p>I felt the blush on my cheeks and gave Penelope a doubtful look. </p>
<p>“Don’t be ridiculous –”</p>
<p>“I’m totally not. I’m being the opposite of ridiculous. Like, just tonight. He stayed back <i>just</i> to talk to you. And then he totally waved goodbye to you.”</p>
<p>“He was just being nice. And, a wave isn’t anything –“</p>
<p>“Um, he’s <i>never</i> waved goodbye to me. I get a quick hand of goodbye. Not an actual wave <i>with</i> a smile.”</p>
<p>“Okay, that doesn’t mean –“ </p>
<p>“And Morgan told me about the elevator thing. <i>Which</i> you specifically left out the detail of <i>Reid holding onto you</i> when you told me!”</p>
<p>I opened my mouth but had nothing to say. My face burned even brighter and I snapped it shut, mumbling, </p>
<p>“He wasn’t <i>holding</i> me. We almost died and he was just getting his balance –“</p>
<p>“Right. Sure. I can tell you that the Dr. Reid <i>I</i> know doesn’t like touching people <i>at all</i>, and he not only held <i>you</i> but he let you hold onto <i>him</i>. He doesn’t do that with <i>anyone</i>, Aria. Except you, apparently. That’s definitely something. Pair it with the compliments and the wave-and-smile, and we’ve got a <i>thing</i> thing.”</p>
<p>I couldn’t help it, I actually giggled at that as she wiggled her brows at me. Penelope joined me and soon we were laughing wildly, slumped over onto one another as we tried to catch our breath.</p>
<p>“Look, you don’t need to like, start planning your vows with him or anything,” she relented; I gave her a look as my blush deepened. “I’m just saying, it’s not a dumb crush and he’s definitely not out of your league. So just don’t count yourself out, okay?”</p>
<p>With a sigh, I nodded and gave a small smile. </p>
<p>“Okay. But this stays between you and me. <i>Not</i> Emily, or JJ, or Morgan, or Hotch, or Rossi.” I paused and then emphasized, “<i>definitely</i> not Morgan.”</p>
<p>Penelope got to her feet and held her hands out to me, tugging me to my feet and then reaching up, fixing my smeared makeup off as she said idly,</p>
<p>“Oh, my handsome slice of chocolate cake is already onto you. Apparently you blush a <i>lot</i> around Reid. Like… when Morgan asked Reid if you were pretty on the last case?”</p>
<p>Cue my face going even brighter than it had been. Instantly I went to defend myself until I realized what it meant if she knew about that. </p>
<p>“Are you and Morgan <i>gossiping</i> about me?!”</p>
<p>Penelope fake-gasped and put a hand to her heart as she undid the lock on the door and led us down the hall. </p>
<p>“What? <i>Me</i>?? <i>Gossip</i>?!”</p>
<p>We both burst out laughing again, giggling the whole way to my desk, and then the rest of the way down to the lobby. I felt lighter than I had in days. </p>
<p>Penelope was right. I still couldn’t see past the thoughts Connor had planted in my head, but… this had helped. And though I’d been trying to squash my crush on Reid, Penelope’s encouragement just added fuel to the growing fire. </p>
<p>And, y’know, all things considered… maybe it <i>wasn’t</i> so wild to think Reid might like me back. Crazier things could happen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I seriously LOVE all the support you guys have been giving me. This story is like my life so I'm so happy you guys are enjoying it! </p>
<p>The next chapter's gonna be a bit of a filler between episodes - incorporating the things y'all have sent me that you'd like to see. If there's anything else you guys are interested in, don't be afraid to tell me! I love adding in things you guys want as I know you'll really appreciate them.</p>
<p>Also, for those of you that have an idea about the first-floor hottie... I think you're really gonna like what happens the next few chapters... ;)</p>
<p>As always I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter (it's been one of my favorites to write so far, so I'm excited to know what you thought!). If you want you can check out recollins.tumblr.com for extra bits about this story, and a few extra Criminal Minds drabbles I've put together. </p>
<p>Thank you all, I love you guys!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Trouble in Taupe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x07 - Identity</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Starting my morning with Spencer Reid was pretty much a guarantee that it was gonna be a good day. Though I’d worried our resident genius wouldn’t <i>actually</i> come in early on a Monday, he’d beaten me to the bullpen and already had a stack of case files on his desk by the time I’d joined him. </p><p>An hour later, he was eagerly rattling off the statistics of the third case we were comparing as I scribbled down another paragraph for my paper. With the ten thousand things I had to do in a week, I’d completely forgotten the report I had due by Friday and I’d been panicking when we’d gotten back from the last case Saturday night. </p><p>Reid had offered to help before I’d even finished telling Emily and JJ about my procrastination. He reminded me of that handy fourth-floor filing room with the old cases, which was <i>exactly</i> what I needed in the 11th hour for this stupid paper.</p><p>“So between those cases,” Reid prompted, shutting the folder and looking across to me, “what do the three UnSub’s we profiled have in common?”</p><p>“Hmm,” I mused, tapping my pen against my chin as I skimmed my notes. I tipped my head as I glanced up to offer, “all three had been sexually abused, and they all had been diagnosed with depression.”</p><p>“Exactly!” he smiled, clearly pleased I’d picked up on the connections. His praise instantly warmed me and I met his smile with my own as he elaborated, “One of the biggest difference between male and female arsonists is that women have a greater prevalence of sexual abuse, and a much higher predominance of mental illness and psychosis.”</p><p>“Noted,” I assured, jotting down the bit he’d just given me. Reid got up from his desk and came around to look down at my notepad; I tilted it to show the pages we’d put together. “This should hopefully help me get a decent grade.”</p><p>“I think so,” he agreed, arms folding over his chest as he nodded. “You picked an interesting topic to delve into. What made you choose female arsonists?”</p><p>“Honestly?” I asked meekly, and he gave a small nod. “You were talking about it with Emily last week and it caught my attention. I didn’t know there was such a small percentage of women compared to men, and the psychology aspect of <i>why</i> pulled me in.”</p><p>“Oh,” Reid said, a slow smile curling his lips. His cheeks tinted <i>just</i> this side of pink and those damn butterflies emerged from the depths of my crush. “Well I – I’m glad I could help. I didn’t know you’d paid attention to that.”</p><p>“I always listen when you talk,” I said instinctively, and paused realizing how eagerly I’d said that. Now <i>my</i> face was turning pink. Thankfully Reid had ducked to hide the full smile that blossomed at my words and I quickly cleared my throat. “I really appreciate you helping me with this. I’m glad you told me about the secret file room. We’ll have to go through some more cases sometime.”</p><p>Me and my subtle-but-not-so-subtle way of saying <i>I will literally find any excuse to spend time with you because you’re always the best part of my day</i>. Reid glanced up at me again, looking ready to ask me something that had his cheeks darkening already, but he cut off with a quick,</p><p>“Morgan’s behind you.”</p><p>I whirled in my chair so fast I almost threw myself out of it. Morgan paused his creeping towards me and dropped his head back in frustration, scowling at Reid as he slunk over to his desk, pouting like a five-year-old.</p><p>“Come <i>on</i> pretty boy, you’re supposed to be on <i>my</i> side of the prank war!”</p><p>“Against <i>who</i>?” I asked him incredulously, crossing my arms. Morgan motioned to me and I instantly argued, “I’m <i>not</i> in a prank war with you. I haven’t even <i>done</i> anything –”</p><p>“You helped Reid hide my cell phone in a filing cabinet,” he deadpanned; Reid and I shared a quick grin. “<i>Twice</i>.”</p><p>“I can neither confirm nor deny this,” Reid spoke up, casually tucking his hair behind his ears, which was a <i>lot</i> more distracting than it should’ve been. Thankfully Morgan was too worked up to notice the undoubtable heart-eyes I’d just accidently sent to Reid. </p><p>“I hate to break it to the <i>both</i>’a you, but you’re involved. And I don’t lose prank wars.”</p><p>With a scoff – mostly trying to hide the ogling I’d just been doing – I stood and smoothed out my skirt, flipping my hair haughtily over my shoulder. Morgan rolled his eyes at my dramatics as I stalked past him. </p><p>“Well <i>I</i> hate to break it to <i>you</i> but I’m not on <i>anyone’s</i> side because I’m not in a prank war with <i>anyone</i>. I’m not lowering myself to your level,” I informed him, bumping into his chair as I went by, knocking him forward. “Ope, ‘scuse me.”</p><p>Morgan actually snorted and, as he adjusted himself back into his seat, he threw me a smirk. </p><p>“Did you just say ‘<i>ope</i>’? You lettin’ your Midwest show?”</p><p>The gasp that left me was genuine and I stopped my retreat to turn and give him an affronted stare. </p><p>“I am <i>not</i> from the Midwest.”</p><p>“Yeah you are,” he argued, giving me a bewildered look. “Colorado’s the Midwest!”</p><p>“Colorado is <i>not</i> the Midwest!” </p><p>“It <i>definitely</i> is.”</p><p>“No it’s <i>definitely</i> not!” I threw back, and before he could argue more I turned to Reid with a pout. The smile on his face was unexpectedly soft, making my heart skip a few beats. After a moment’s hesitation he lifted a brow in question, his caramel-brown eyes bright with amusement as I snapped my thoughts back into place and whined, “I need facts!”</p><p>Morgan tried to cut off the flood I’d just unleashed but Reid was too eager to give information – and correct Morgan – and he couldn’t be stopped. </p><p>“Despite being closer to the center of the country than the West Coast, Colorado has much more in common with the West than the <i>Mid</i>west. It’s mountainous and dry – though much less dry than some other Western states – rather than flat and wet,” he spouted; Morgan tried to intervene and Reid actually held up a finger to him. “Even the flat eastern part of the state is more like Wyoming than, say, Iowa. Although it has plenty of agriculture, its development was more about ranching and mining. The demographics are more like other Western states than Midwestern ones as well. If it had to be classified into a sub-direction of West, it would be more Southwest than anything.”</p><p>Morgan just shook his head at Reid before turning to scowl at me. I offered him a beaming grin in return as I backed towards the break area. </p><p>“That’s cheating,” he accused, and I snorted, shaking my head. </p><p>“<i>That’s</i> using my resources,” I corrected, getting an eye-roll from Morgan as he turned to his desk to accept temporary defeat. Reid and I locked eyes over his head and on a whim I threw him a wink of thanks. The sweet grin I pulled out of him had my stomach doing backflips the whole way to the coffee machine. </p><p>I’d just started gathering the coffee – and the hot water for Reid and I – when I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. Instantly I tensed, guard raising as I tugged it out. The only people who’d be calling me this early were Penelope, Hotch, and Connor. Two out of three of them were across the room from me, which left the one person I didn’t want to talk to. With a bracing breath, I looked down at the number. </p><p>My hackles lowered just a hint when I saw the 703 area code. <i>Virginia, probably the doctor’s office calling back to set up the appointment</i>, I realized, hurrying to answer the phone. The sooner I could get a doctor established the sooner I could get my insulin refilled. I hit answer and propped my phone on my shoulder as I began to dig the paper cups out of the cupboard.</p><p>“Hello?” I huffed, pushing up on the counter to reach the stack, wondering if Morgan had purposely moved them higher. <i>Fine. I’ll just go get Reid to grab them</i> –</p><p>“Hey, sugar.” </p><p>The sound of Connor’s voice sent panic slamming into me like a fist to the stomach. My legs nearly gave out and I caught myself with my free hand on the counter, leaning heavily against it as my body went cold and numb. Rooted to the spot, heart stuttering, mind blanking, all I could do was cling to my phone and the edge of the counter as he chuckled. “You know, if you’d just answer my texts and quit blocking my number I wouldn’t have to bother you at work like this –”</p><p>“Do not call me <i>ever</i> again,” I hissed, fight-or-flight response breaking through the terror to get me as far from his voice as I could. My hand snapped my phone shut before I’d even processed that I’d spoken. For several heartbeats I held my ground, willing myself to fight off the tears and the shaking I felt rising up through me, trying to keep the panic attack at bay. </p><p>I wasn’t winning this time. I hadn’t spoken to him in three years, and I’d been just fine never having to do so again. The texts were one thing, but that voice… the memories surged to the front of my mind before I could stop them. </p><p><i>I’m glad it hurt. That’s what you get for being so stupid. No wonder Jude killed himself to get away from you, you fucking waste of space.</i> </p><p>
  <i>A victim? You wanna be the victim? You want people to feel sorry for you? Quit your fucking whining or I’ll give them a reason to pity you.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Take one more goddamn step and I’m making it your last. You make a fool out of me, I’m gonna make a fucking example out of you.</i>
</p><p>I didn’t even remember moving but the next thing I knew I was stumbling past the glass doors into the lobby, hyperventilating and desperately wiping the non-stop tears off my cheeks. I heard Reid and Morgan laughing and talking, sounding miles away from me now. I wanted more than anything to turn and run to them to surround myself with safety and comfort –</p><p>I couldn’t. I couldn’t let them see me like this. </p><p>All but sprinting down the hall, I raced into the bathroom and ducked into a stall, hands shaking so bad it took me two tries to turn the lock. Now with a little privacy, I let the panic attack take over; I couldn’t fight it today. My chest was so tight I could hardly take a breath to keep up with the silent sobs tearing out of my chest. </p><p>My arms wrapped tight around myself, trying to ground me and keep me from getting lost in the sea of terror that was dragging me into its dark depths. Jude’s voice went on repeat in my mind, chanting the usual mantra of <i>it’s okay, Little A. You’re okay. It’s okay, Little A. You’re okay</i>, over and over, willing myself to believe it. It was just a phone call. Just a few words – <i>how did he get a Virginia number?</i> – he had no idea where I actually was – <i>he knew I was at work</i> – he can’t hurt me – <i>that’s what you thought before</i> –</p><p>Okay, no, I had to stop that. I had to reign myself in before I was completely lost. That was the PTSD talking and I couldn’t let it win out today. I wasn’t giving Conn – </p><p>A tiny, shaky smile came to my face. </p><p>I wasn’t giving <i>Skeevy JerkFace</i> that kind of power over me. I could practically hear Reid saying matter-of-factly, <i>he’s a classic narcissist. That kind of power and control is what he craves and he thinks he still has that with you</i>. </p><p>No. He wasn’t getting that from me. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever again. </p><p>Almost ten minutes later, I was finally breathing normal again and the tears had stopped. Taking one last deep breath, the remnants of Jude and Reid’s voices echoing in comfort within my mind, I scrubbed my hands down my face and tried to push the rest of the lingering damage he’d left behind back down where I’d stuffed it all those years ago. </p><p>Sniffling to myself, I shuffled out of the stall and paused at the mirror. <i>Yeesh</i> I looked like a train wreck. With a handful of paper towels, I did my best to un-smear my makeup, cursing under my breath when I realized my hands were still shaking. For a heartbeat I was angry with myself, frustrated with the overreaction. A voice that sounded strikingly like Reid’s again spoke up in the back of my mind.  </p><p><i>This is normal. You went through something traumatic and it’s expected that hearing his voice for the first time would trigger this. It’s a valid reaction that can’t be helped. There’s nothing wrong with that. Taking your control back so quickly shows you’ve come a long way.</i> </p><p>“I have,” I agreed, then snapped my mouth shut. I was crazy, but I wasn’t <i>answer-the-voices-in-your-head</i> crazy. Mostly. I still looked a little worse for wear, but I couldn’t dawdle anymore. My absence – and the absence of morning drinks – would be noticed if I didn’t get back soon. </p><p>I wasn’t letting this define my day. I’d had a good morning with Reid, and today was gonna be a good day, no matter what the universe tried to say otherwise. I hurried out of the bathroom before I lost the bit of vigor I’d scraped together. By the time I got back to the bullpen, the coffee was done brewing and Emily had joined the other two at the cluster of desks. They looked like they were deep in a conversation; at least my tearful sprint to the bathroom hadn’t been noticed. </p><p>After fixing the drinks, I gathered them onto the tray and made my way over to them, staying quiet as I sat them on my desk, not wanting to interrupt. Although, now that I could listen in, I realized the conversation was actually a one-sided excited ramble from the adorable profiler perched on Morgan’s desk. Not that <i>I</i> minded listening. His voice was just as soothing to me now as it had been mid-breakdown, but I could tell the other two unwilling participants didn’t share the same feelings. </p><p>Actually, I’d considered intervening to keep the peace – and to keep Reid from being shut down – when I actually processed what he was saying. </p><p>“It all boils down to the type of hyper matter reactor you’d use in that situation, to be perfectly honest.”</p><p>My brow furrowed and I turned to him, handing over his tea and asking my question before I realized what I was about to do. “What are you doing with hyper-matter somethings?”</p><p>Having apparently just realized I was back, Morgan whipped around in his chair to fix me with a betrayed glare as Emily groaned and dropped her head on the desk. I’d just unintentionally kicked off another round of Dr. Spencer Reid trivia. Which was no problem for me, especially when Reid’s bright brown eyes instantly snapped to me. The butterflies instantly fluttered to life as his warm gaze caught me off-guard for the second time that morning. All I could do was stare at him with an unexpected smile, trying not to look as smitten as I felt. </p><p>“I’m so glad you asked,” he said eagerly, and then held up his hands – tea and all – as he began to tell me animatedly, “a popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hyper matter reactor would need about ten to the thirty-second joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of earth. Now, George Lucas said it took nineteen years to build the first death star, right?”</p><p>“Right,” I agreed, not understanding a thing he’d just said, let alone what he’d been talking about. Reid just nodded enthusiastically as Morgan shoved to his feet. </p><p>“<i>Well</i>, if you look at the new essential chronology, there’s actually a test-bed prototype for a super laser that spans – where’re you going?” Reid asked, turning to watch as Morgan skirted past him. </p><p>“To get the last five minutes of my life back,” he huffed; Reid frowned after him as I rolled my eyes. </p><p>“Be nice,” I chastised, scowling after him as he smirked defiantly at me over his shoulder. Reid slid off Morgan’s desk and came to stand beside my own. For a heartbeat I was caught up in watching him as he smoothed his tie down – <i>with those enticingly long, slim fingers</i> – as he let a pout come over his full lips. </p><p>“You can’t go in there,” he called after Morgan, getting both mine and Emily’s attention. Morgan was not-so-subtly hedging towards Rossi’s office, where painters were just leaving from. Morgan scoffed. </p><p>“Don’t you wanna know about this guy?” I gave him an unamused frown when he turned his questioning look to me, shaking my head. “Oh come on sunshine, you gotta be a <i>little</i> curious.”</p><p>“I am, but I’m not about to go snooping through his things,” I argued; Emily slipped past Reid and I, hand going up.</p><p>“I am!”  </p><p>Stifling a sigh as I rolled my eyes, I turned to ask Reid to keep telling me about the Death Star laser thing, only to find him setting his tea down to start after the other two. My jaw actually dropped; he wasn’t the rebellious type!</p><p>“Reid!” he hesitated but didn’t stop. With a huff, I skirted my desk and scampered after him, snagging the sleeve of his shirt and tugging him to a stop. He paused instantly and turned to give me a sheepish smile, but his expression faltered. </p><p>“Are you alright?” </p><p>The playful quip froze on my lips as I blinked up at him, totally unprepared for that question. His gaze flickered with genuine concern and I pulled my hand back to twist into the hem of my skirt nervously, unsure of how to answer. How did he always seem to see something was wrong? He waited with concerned patience as I finally managed to force out, </p><p>“What? Yeah. Why? I’m fine. Why do you ask?” Wow, no awards for believable acting with <i>that</i> performance… frowning at my hurried answer, Reid pressed his lips together and told me simply, </p><p>“Your eyes weren’t red earlier but they are now. Were you crying?”</p><p>“Oh, no,” I lied automatically, forcing out a quick smile as I shook my head. “It’s, uh, my eyeliner. It got in my eyes and it’s, you know –“ I waved my hand at my face, “– doing this now. I’m fine.”</p><p>Though he nodded, Reid didn’t look fully convinced… just like a few weeks ago before Halloween. Okay, I <i>knew</i> I was totally reading into it, but having him pick up on the fact I was upset without me having to say anything settled a warmth in me I hadn’t felt in a long time. The warmth that came with being noticed, being cared for, without having to ask for it first. </p><p>There was no time to linger on that, though, because I’d just noticed Morgan and Emily had slipped into Rossi’s office completely. Reid followed my gaze and I caught the look on his face. </p><p>“No! Don’t be nosy!” </p><p>His eyes, brightening again with a mischievous gleam I’d never seen in them before, darted back to me briefly and I raised a brow at him.</p><p>“I’m not,” he said slowly, taking another hedging step towards the office. “I was just going to get them to stop.”</p><p>My face fell into a deadpan stare as I crossed my arms over my chest. </p><p>“Yeah. And Morgan’s the new hair model for L’Oréal.”</p><p>Reid blinked at me. I blinked at him. </p><p>Without warning he spun and scampered up the stairs, darting into Rossi’s office before I could move to stop him. I actually laughed, taken off-guard by how adorable he was, rolling my eyes and hurrying after my rogue teammates. </p><p>The three of them were already in full swing, milling about and turning and studying the bare room, profiling the freaking <i>color of his walls</i>, of all things. At Reid’s side, I crossed my arms and did my best to scowl at them all. </p><p>“You know, emotionally, taupe is linked to loneliness and the desire to escape from the world,” Emily pointed out. Morgan and Reid both <i>hmm</i>’d and I shook my head. </p><p>“<i>Or</i>, he just likes taupe.” They all gave me looks as if to say <i>don’t be ridiculous</i> as Morgan pressed, </p><p>“I just thought his walls would be covered with plaques and accommodations. Not taupe.”</p><p>“Maybe he doesn’t want to be reminded of past victories. He could be looking at this as a new chapter so he’s leaving his past achievements behind,” Reid offered, and I huffed at the group as I pointed out,</p><p>“Don’t you all always tell me we don’t inter-profile on the team?” </p><p>All three of them shrugged and Morgan turned his gaze to me, raising a bold eyebrow. </p><p>“C’mon sunshine, <i>team</i>? You were with him last case. Don’t tell me you think Rossi knows the meaning of a team.” I went to argue back as Morgan grabbed a picture and held it up, beckoning me over. “C’mere, tell me what you think about this.”</p><p>My lips pressed together disapprovingly, but suddenly Reid was scooting further in and he actually nudged my arm just a hint with his as he went, encouraging me to follow. Instantly my mind went back to Penelope’s words from the other week: <i>the Dr. Reid I know doesn’t like touching people at all</i>. Sure, it was just an arm-brush, but that counted for something, right? After the rollercoaster ride of a morning I’d had, I was pretending it did.</p><p>Reluctantly I inched up to Morgan and eyed the artwork, leaning closer to examine the painting.  </p><p>“It looks religious, definitely expensive,” I began, and Morgan gave me a look. </p><p>“I meant tell me something <i>besides</i> the obvious.” </p><p>I rolled my eyes. </p><p>“Possibly an original?” Reid noted, coming to stand behind my shoulder, close enough I could catch the soft scent of his cologne – a subtle cinnamon and mahogany – and old leather. It was a comforting, warm smell that settled deep in my lungs, soothing me in a way I’d never thought a smell could. His hand came around me to take the picture from Morgan, lifting it up closer to us, and for a moment it felt like I was being pulled to him; I didn’t mind one bit. </p><p>“It’s Renaissance art,” he started, brow furrowing as I saw the profiling wheels beginning to turn. “If this is an original…”</p><p>“Is it?” I asked, tipping my head back to look up at him. We were so close I could <i>almost</i> rest against his chest. He didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in studying the painting, but Morgan and Emily sure did. As soon as I felt their devious grins burning into me I unwillingly and not-so-subtly shifted half a step to the left. </p><p>“I don’t know,” Reid murmured, oblivious to the silent exchange of scowls and smirks around him as he angled the picture from different sides. “It’s kinda hard to tell.”</p><p>“Well, it means he’s into the classics, right?” I started, desperate to draw the attention off my burning face; thankfully Morgan nodded encouragingly, switching gears.</p><p>“What else?” he prompted, and Reid tilted the painting towards me. </p><p>“Well, it’s Italian renaissance, so… maybe a strict Catholic upbringing?” I suggested, thinking of my own <i>full-blooded Italian</i> mother and all the over-the-top artwork we had on almost every available wall in the house. Reid <i>hmm</i>’d and nodded his agreement.</p><p>“Probably believes in redemption,” he started, and a new voice behind us added, </p><p>“Oh, I believe in a lot of things.”</p><p>Barely stifling the squeak of alarm, I jumped and whirled with the other three profilers, staring guiltily up at Rossi as he studied us from the doorway. </p><p>“Catholic, yes. 52 years of Italian-American,” he continued; all four of us sank lower into ourselves as he walked into the room. “Strict upbringing, not so much. Now, the artwork? That’s a 15th century original. Cost more than my first house. And as for the wall color, it’s just a base coat. No personal or emotional attachment to taupe at this time.”</p><p>All of us stood in tense, uneasy silence. Had I not been so embarrassed, I would have <i>totally</i> hissed out <i>I told you so</i>! Snooping had been such a bad idea! Except I’d let myself get roped in and I was just as guilty. </p><p>“Now, if you’re all finished, I think Hotch, JJ, and Garcia are waiting for us,” he hinted; Reid instantly sat the painting down and skirted past him. I scampered behind, giving Rossi an apologetic smile as I raced to catch up to Reid. </p><p>He paused at my desk to let me reach him, waiting for me to scoop up the drinks – and grabbing his own – before we hurried to the conference room. As we settled around the table, our eyes met and we both pulled a <i>yikes</i> face, dissolving into giggles as the others slowly joined us. </p><p>Slowly, all the panic from <i>Skeevy Jerkface</i>’s call melted away, replaced with the warmth that bubbled through me at the smile Reid gave to me.  </p><p>--</p><p>Today was <i>not</i> a good day for my concentration, apparently.</p><p>It was <i>really</i> hard to pay attention to what Hotch was going over when I was so focused watching Reid work the map on the table between us. His slender fingers skimmed over the paper, lips fluttering as he murmured to himself, brow furrowing as he traced lines back and forth. </p><p>Seriously. Cute. </p><p>Without looking up, one of Reid’s hand reached out and began to pat around for the markers that had rolled out of reach with the shifting of the plane. I took my chance before I could talk myself out of it. </p><p>“What color?” </p><p>“Red,” he muttered, still patting. I reached across and slid the marker under his fingers. As he mumbled what I assumed was a thanks, I propped my elbow on the table, chin resting on my hand to observe his work. </p><p>“I could’ve grabbed you a coloring book or something,” Emily teased him, looking over his shoulder; his lip quirked up a hint. He sat the red down, and – following the lines he’d already done – I made a guess for the blue one next. He glanced at the marker, smiled a little wider, and gave me a quick grin before going back to the map. I couldn’t profile murderers or psychopaths, but I was getting the hang of scruffy doctors and map-drawing. </p><p>“So what <i>is</i> all this?” I prompted, and instantly he started explaining,</p><p>“It’s a topographical map. I’m weighing down and geocoding all key locations looking for algorithms.” Emily blinked in surprise with me as I replayed what he said. I understood <i>maybe</i> four words of that sentence, almost none of them sequential.</p><p>“Yeah. That’s what I figured it was,” I nodded, clearing my throat. He looked up at me through his lashes with a quirked smile, tucking his hair back behind his ear – <i>why was that so enticing</i> – as Hotch elaborated,</p><p>“It’s called a jeopardy surface. It’s a way of narrowing down where the UnSub could be residing.”</p><p>“So, by default, where he <i>could</i> be stashing Angela Miller,” I guessed, head tipping back against the seat to look up at him. Hotch nodded in confirmation as he took a seat across the aisle.</p><p>“You know, it says here the guy had a fully loaded gun, so we know he had options. Why the grenade?” Morgan frowned from beside me. I offered a shrug – earning a dry frown from Morgan – as Reid tugged out his case file, pausing his topographical mapping to study the notes as Rossi suggested, </p><p>“He wants to be remembered. And he wanted to be sure to take as many cops with him as possible. He knows he’s outgunned, so he waits. Times it to the last second… then <i>boom</i>.” </p><p>The shudder that shivered down my spine couldn’t be helped.</p><p>“So, there are some pretty committed people in those parts who love firepower?” I asked the group. </p><p>Rossie nodded. “Almost as much as they hate <i>us</i>.”</p><p>Catching my look, Hotch added, </p><p>“The militia aren’t fond of authority involvement of any kind.”</p><p>“And they’re heavily armed,” Reid added, mirroring the look of concern that had crept onto my face as he spared a glance around to everyone. Emily frowned. </p><p>“Yeah, but <i>hand grenades</i>?”</p><p>“It’s not uncommon for militia members to have military experience,” he confirmed. “Oftentimes, they resent the structure, get discharged, and then form their own paramilitary government.”</p><p>“Well, dental records from the UnSub are on their way to Garcia,” JJ informed us. “I’ll have her check military records first.”</p><p>“Prentiss, you and I will go meet the husband,” Hotch decided. Morgan instantly offered,</p><p>“I can walk the other abduction sites.”</p><p>“Alright. JJ, Dave, Reid, Aria – set up base and work the geographical profiles, establish contact with the locals, and tread carefully.”</p><p>We all looked up at him in surprise hearing the solemn warning in his voice. He met all our eyes as he told us pointedly, “we’ll be watched very closely. We’ll need to stick together on this; no one goes off alone.”</p><p>We all fell silent after Hotch’s words of warning, but slowly the others picked up lighter conversations around us. JJ settled next to Hotch and they fell into a discussion about the inner workings of government politics in Texas that I wasn’t even gonna pretend I understood. Morgan and Emily settled into one of their ongoing debates about the best seafood restaurant in Virginia, and instead of getting swept up in their aquatic argument I turned my attention back to Reid. </p><p>He had his head tipped to the side, brow furrowed as he studied the lines he made. His full lips moved silently as he muttered to himself, one of his slender fingers coming up to tap his chin as he huffed and sat back. As if he felt me staring at him – because of <i>course</i> I was… – he lifted his gaze to me. </p><p>Trying to cover the fact that I’d just been appreciating the attractive features he’d been blessed with, I offered up a playful smile and warned, </p><p>“Better look out for those paper towns. They’ll trip you up every time.”</p><p>Reid actually <i>giggled</i>, the grin that blossomed lighting up the rest of his face and honestly taking my breath away. His tongue pressed against his teeth as he ducked his head for a moment, finally looking back at me almost shyly. </p><p>“Do you… um, I could show you how the geocoding works. I-if you wanted.”</p><p>“Oh come on now, don’t bore her to death,” Morgan scoffed, jostling Reid’s markers across his map. Before Reid’s face could even <i>begin</i> to take on the dejected expression I couldn’t stand, I swatted his hand back and swept the markers to me. </p><p>“Just because he’s smarter than you doesn’t mean you need to pick on him,” I defended, shifting in the seat to better block Morgan’s attempts for the markers. He scoffed and slumped back, shaking his head at me. </p><p>“You told me you weren’t takin’ sides, but now you’re teamin’ up with pretty boy?”</p><p>“Um <i>yeah</i>, ‘cause he’s actually nice to me and helps me with my homework instead of trying to sabotage my papers and give me a heart attack before I even graduate college.” </p><p>“Huh,” Morgan mused, settling back in his chair and giving me a slow smirk. “Is that the <i>only</i> reason you’re sidin’ with him, sunshine?”</p><p>Acutely aware of both Emily <i>and</i> JJ looking at me now, I huffed and flipped my hair at Morgan – smacking him in the face – as I turned to Reid. He smiled at me softly, looking genuinely thankful for my defense of him. </p><p>“Alright. Show me your brilliant mapping skills, Dr. Reid,” I urged, leaning intently on the table and nodding at him to encourage him to pick up where he left off. Morgan could tease, Emily could smirk, JJ could whisper to them about it… I didn’t care.</p><p>Keeping that genuine smile on Reid’s face was all I was concerned about.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and I hope you're liking the story! For those asking, there will be an in-between-episodes chapter after this case (Ch. 18). I'm still taking ideas/requests for what to have included in this (and in future filler chapters) so feel free to send your thoughts my way!</p><p>As always, thank you guys so much for all your comments. I read all of them and love seeing your reactions/thoughts to things! They seriously make my entire week. If you have the time and you enjoyed reading, please leave a comment letting me know what you thought! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Pipe Cleaner with Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x07 - Identity</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before I even made it around the SUV to head for the station, Hotch gently caught my arm and pulled me to a stop. I was ready for his speech about sticking with the team and not going off on my own, so when he knelt and pulled out one of the pistols from an ankle holster, all I could do was stare. </p><p>When I didn’t move to take it, he held it out to me, which just got him a couple blinks of confusion. When he didn’t budge, though, I finally took the pistol, studying it for a moment before I peeked up at him. </p><p>“What, no shotgun?” Hotch’s face fell into a deadpan frown as I snickered to myself. “I’m not fully certified, you know.” </p><p>Hotch surprised me with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. He was the last of the team I’d expect to brush off the rules. “You’ve finished your sidearm training, and you’re qualified to carry a pistol if I see fit. Even though you won’t be on your own, I’d feel better having you armed just in case. Dealing with the Militia can be unpredictable, and if at any point <i>anything</i> goes south, I don’t want you unprotected.”</p><p>I nodded in understanding, giving Hotch a thankful smile. As always, his genuine concern for my well-being warmed me to the core. The whole team went out of their way to make sure I was safe and accounted for, regardless of the situation. </p><p>“You’re down to only two guns now, you know. You’re practically unarmed,” I pointed out as he headed towards the SUV waiting to take him to the scene. “Make sure you stay close to Emily.”</p><p>“Your sarcastic concern is duly noted,” he assured me, lips twitching off the smile I knew he was fighting back. I flashed him a cheeky grin. “Have JJ or Dave grab you a holster. Help set up the board and be sure to –“</p><p>“Stay with the team. Aye aye, captain,” I promised, giving him a two-fingered salute. He actually rolled his eyes as he got into the SUV. </p><p>--</p><p>Eyes were burning into me across the station. </p><p>Keeping Rossi’s words in mind, I tried not to pay the grumpy officers any attention. Instead, I focused on struggling with the holster JJ had found for me. The only options the station had was a belt holster or a thigh holster. Seeing as I didn’t have a belt, that left me with one choice. I’d managed to connect the waist belt of the harness easy enough, but the thigh straps… I was <i>not</i> qualified to hook this thing up. </p><p>Reid was alternating between doing what he could to help me adjust the clips and sifting through the pile of pictures and information the local PD had dumped on the table for us. Well, more like <i>thrown</i> onto the table. Even the law enforcement wasn’t happy about the FBI’s involvement. </p><p>“How do you even lengthen this one?” I muttered to myself from my spot on the table, trying to twist my leg to see the other end of the clip. When I nearly fell off the table, Reid stifled a laugh and reached out, plucking the strap I needed out from under my leg. The perk of being clueless with this dumb holster was getting to enlist the handsome doctor’s help. </p><p>Honestly, his assistance was probably more to stop my grumbling and occasional under-the-breath cursing I threw out, but I’d take it. Not surprising in the least, he’d mastered the art of helping me connect a holster to my thigh without once touching my leg. </p><p>As much as I wouldn’t mind him doing so – not that I would ever admit that – I appreciated his effort to respect my boundaries while simultaneously helping me look like I knew what I was doing. He held it in place so I could adjust the length, and finally I got the last buckle to snap together. I looked up to thank him, but instead of <i>his</i> gaze I caught the scowls a group of officers were throwing my way. Without thinking, I automatically gave one back. </p><p>They sneered but finally turned away and I huffed in irritation, looking up to Reid now. He was studying me curiously, bemusement sparking in his caramel eyes as he raised his brows. For a moment my thoughts scattered, not having expected him to be so close still.</p><p>My cheeks flushed and I gave a meek smile. “Sorry. It’s just, they don’t need to so hostile. We’re on <i>their</i> side here. They can at least stop being jerks, you know?”</p><p>His lips quirked up but before I got a response, JJ’s voice filtered into the station as she made her way towards us. Reid stepped back a hint, grabbing a few more pictures and turning to the board, leaving me to now figure out how to properly secure the pistol in its holster. </p><p>“Hi, yes, this is Agent Jareau with the FBI –“ she cut off and I looked back, seeing a scowl similar to my own flicker onto her face as she slumped into one of the chairs in frustration. “Great. That’s the third time I’ve been hung up on.”</p><p>“Try not saying <i>FBI</i>,” Rossi suggested from his spot at the table. I caught JJ’s eyes as she looked up and asked,</p><p>“Who was that?”</p><p>“Contact for a local Militia newsletter.”</p><p>“Yeah, drop the FBI part,” Reid agreed, glancing back at us before returning to the board. JJ looked as exasperated as I felt, and we shared an irritable frown as she tossed her phone onto the table. </p><p>“A woman from their community is missing. You’d think these people would want to help us.”</p><p>“Oh, they do want to help,” Rossi assured, and at the skeptical looks we threw him he clarified, “the missing woman, not us.”</p><p>JJ’s phone rang as I finally got the gun in place. The moment I moved my hand, the entire glove for the pistol detached from the straps on the holster, plunking to the table. The straps that had been around my thigh loosened and hung off my leg. I pinched the bridge of my nose to compose myself before I ripped the stupid thing off. </p><p>“How in the <i>hell</i> did I even do that?!” I muttered as JJ said, <i>go ahead Garcia</i>. Reid stepped up to join us as I started the fight against the holster yet again, listening to Penelope fill us in on what she’d found.</p><p>“You were spot on, crime fighters. Military records match Francis Goehring. Forty-two years old, did a year in the army before a bad conduct discharge, the highlight of which was an arrest during a bar brawl in which three other people were hospitalized. He also appears in the federal database for…. Get this. <i>Aggressive Militia groups</i>.”</p><p>The four of us around the phone shared a look as JJ mused, </p><p>“Aggressive Militia groups…”</p><p>“I mean, is there any other kind?” I asked, earning a snort from Penelope on the other end. </p><p>“A valid point, my sweet little gumdrop.”</p><p>“Does he happen to have a last known address?” Rossi piped up.  </p><p>“He sure does, and I’ve already got it on its way to you. He’s also got an estranged wife living a few towns over.”</p><p>“Have state police bring in the wife. Reid and I will go make friends with his neighbors,” Rossi decided. As JJ hung up the call, he glanced at me now too. “What d’you say, DiMaggio? Up for a drive?”</p><p>He finally noticed the struggle I was in the middle of and I gave him a dubious glance, fighting to get the gun back on the holster. “As soon as I figure this out, I’d love to.”</p><p>“You’re Italian. Make a few hand gestures, throw out some curses, and then invite it to dinner. That’s how we solve the rest of our problems,” he teased, getting a snort out of me as I rolled my eyes. </p><p>“Believe it or not, I’ve already tried that and it hasn’t budged.”</p><p>Unexpectedly, long fingers slipped beneath my own, tugging the pistol and the holster out of my grasp. Reid stepped up to me, his hip brushing against my thigh, so close I could actually smell the shampoo in his tousled curls. His brows pinched together as he deftly connected the pieces of the holster again, and then finally his touch ghosted over my leg as he retightened the straps. </p><p>“I’m not quite sure how you even managed this,” he mused, sneaking me a peek and a small smile. “But here. How does this feel?” </p><p>His hands pulled back but before I could miss his touch, he held them out for me to take. Thankful my back was to JJ and Rossi, I fought off the blush as he helped me off the table. When I stood, the holster sat snugly and hid perfectly beneath my skirt. My jaw actually dropped as I stared up at him in disbelief. </p><p>“How did you <i>do</i> that so fast?!” I gasped as Rossi motioned for us to follow him. I snagged my cardigan off the table and scurried after him and Reid on the way to the SUV. </p><p>Reid shrugged, reaching out to hold the door for me and allowing me to slip past him outside as he teased, “I may not be Italian, but being a magician with an IQ of 187 usually makes up for that.”</p><p>I stopped so suddenly Rossi collided with me. Giving a playful swat to the back of my head, he skirted past as I turned to stare up at Reid in disbelief. He was staring down at me in concern, clearly unaware of what he’d done to get this reaction. </p><p>“You’re a <i>magician</i>?!” The tips of Reid’s ears tinted pink as he gave a slow nod. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”</p><p>He scratched the back of his neck and gave a small, timid shrug as we started again for the SUV. “It’s not something I like to advertise. I’m enough of a freak as it is.”</p><p>“Are you kidding me?” I scoffed, shaking my head as he began to put himself down. “You’re <i>not</i> a freak. You’re seriously the absolute coolest person I’ve ever met.”</p><p>There it was, that giddy, honest grin that he couldn’t hide even though he tried. As we reached the car he said softly, “you think I’m cool?”</p><p>“Nope. I <i>know</i> you’re cool,” I assured. “I hope you know this means you’ve gotta show me your tricks sometime.”</p><p>“I – yeah. I’d love to,” he stammered quickly as he reached out to open the passenger door for me, ready to let me in. I gave him a smile and shook my head. </p><p>“You can take the front. You’ve got longer legs, <i>Houdini</i>,” I deflected, already opening up the back door. He let out a laugh and nodded, and as I sat down he reached up and shut the door for me. <i>Ever the gentleman</i>. The blush on my face was gonna become a permanent thing. Well, more than it already was when I was around Reid. </p><p>The drive through town was a quick one, thankfully. Even coming up on winter, the AC didn’t do much to stave off the dry Montana heat beating down on a black car. The cardigan in my hands immediately got thrown aside. Having the holster against my leg was already too hot; every subsequent layer just added to the discomfort. It was almost a relief to step out into the sun to escape the oven we’d been trapped in, though it really wasn’t much of a difference, truth be told. </p><p>“You two go ahead,” Rossi said, nodding towards the closest house as he tugged out his phone. “I’m letting Hotch know where we’re at. Just in case.”</p><p>Reid and I both paused getting out of the SUV, and our eyes slid nervously to one another. Talk about a reassuring send-off… Reid led the way across the dirt lot, glancing back as we approached to say quietly, </p><p>“Stay close, okay?”</p><p>Nodding and taking his words to heart, I stood at his shoulder close enough to let my arm brush the back of his. He leaned forward, gave a few quick knocks, and when he stepped back he positioned himself half in front of me. The weight of the gun resting against my thigh was nowhere near as comforting as Reid at my side, that was for sure.</p><p>The man that ripped the door open was bigger than both of us combined. His eyes swept dangerously over us; I shifted just a hint closer to Reid as he barked out, </p><p>“What the hell do you two want? Can’t you read?”</p><p>“We’re not salesmen,” Reid explained, tugging his credentials out of his back pocket and holding them up. “We’re with the FBI –“</p><p>“FBI?” he scoffed, looking Reid up and down. “You’re not serious. You look like a pipe cleaner with eyes. I could break you in half –“</p><p>“Ex<i>cuse</i> you,” I cut in, stepping up to stand at Reid’s side, arms crossing aggressively as I scowled up at him. He gave a dismissive once-over of <i>me</i> now as I snapped, “I don’t think that’d be a good idea on your part. We’re just here to –“</p><p>The man crossed his arms right back at me and snarked, “you better watch your tone. That ain’t no way for a woman to treat a man, <i>darlin’</i>.”</p><p>“It’s Miss DiMaggio,” I corrected coolly, and as he went to talk again I cut him off. “We’re just here because this is the address listed for Francis Goehring.”</p><p>“Yeah? Tough shit. I haven’t seen ‘im in months.”</p><p>Reid shrugged and told him idly, “we’d like to see his residence, then.”</p><p>The man’s fingers twitched and I caught his intentions a split second before he moved. His hand snapped out to lock the screen door and I had it ripped open before he even brushed the latch. He paused in surprise as I snarled out, “Francis Goehring abducted three women. We’re looking for a fourth. Angela Miller. This isn’t about the FBI, or the authority, or any of that bullshit. This is about helping a woman from <i>your</i> community.” </p><p>The man held totally still for another several moments; his eyes flicked to Reid, then back to me. Both of us stood our ground, neither even daring to breathe. Realizing we wouldn’t leave him alone until we got what we wanted, the man sighed heavily and finally stepped forward. </p><p>“I’ll show you his place.”</p><p>As he came down the steps towards me, Reid’s hand took my wrist and he tugged me back out of the way. The man studied Reid again as slipped past us to lead us around the trailer. “Piece of advice, pipe cleaner. Way you’re wearin’ that gun? You’re beggin’ someone to take it –”</p><p>“His name is Dr. Reid,” I cut in as we followed him across the lot. “I can assure you that he’s a well-skilled, highly-trained agent, and if anyone attempted that, he’d have no issue apprehending them before they got the chance. But thanks for your concern, <i>sir</i>.”</p><p>The man’s shoulder’s tensed at the title I threw out sarcastically, but he didn’t speak again. Irritation bubbled through me and I couldn’t help the scowl I kept on the back of his head. </p><p>“Down, girl,” Rossi teased quietly as he fell into step with us. Though I pressed my lips together, the look didn’t budge. Feeling him at my side again, I glanced up at Reid. His eyes were fixed ahead of us, but there was a soft smile that told me my defense of him hadn’t gone unappreciated. </p><p>I hadn’t meant to come off as strongly as I did, but I didn’t like bullies, <i>especially</i> when they picked on someone I cared about. And, hell, it’d worked. The man kept his mouth shut as he paused at another trailer and jammed his finger towards it. When he turned to leave, his gaze swept to Reid and I paused behind him and Rossi, lifting a brow, daring him to say something. The man sneered but turned on his heel, stalking back to his own trailer. </p><p>When I turned to head after the other two, I saw Reid waiting for me. He still had that soft smile, and when I reached his side he told me honestly, “Thank you for speaking up. That was… really kind.”</p><p>“Of course,” I answered, peeking up at him to give a smile in return. “Militia punk or not, he didn’t need to be a jerk to you.”</p><p>Reid shrugged his shoulders, hands slipping into his pockets as he said simply, “he just wanted to try and assert his self-imposed authority over my legitimate authority. I’m used to it.”</p><p>“Well <i>I’m</i> not, and I don’t like you being picked on,” I huffed before I realized what I was saying. My eyes widened just a hint and I instantly shut my mouth. <i>Play it cool, Aria! Jeeze!</i></p><p>If Reid had wanted to say anything, he didn’t get the chance. We’d reached the trailer and Rossi was already digging through the pile of books beside a bed. When he heard us come in, he reached into his pocket and held up some latex gloves; I scampered ahead and took them, passing a pair back to Reid. </p><p>“It doesn’t look like he sleeps here,” Rossi told us as he abandoned the books to dig through an old dresser. Once my gloves were on, I scanned the trailer for something to rifle through and spotted a pile of mail and magazines up on top of the fridge.</p><p>Reid was going through some boxes on the cluttered dining table, so I took it upon myself to investigate. I grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over, holding onto the fridge as I righted myself, digging through the pile. </p><p>“He’s sure got a lot of firearm subscriptions,” I told the guys behind me, getting up on my tip-toes to see a little more. “A lot of unopened junk mail, some stuff on survival preparedness…”</p><p>“I’ve got more of the same here,” Reid agreed. “The postmarks are new, so he’s been by to check the mail at least.”</p><p>“If he’s not sleeping here, he probably just uses this for mail then, right?” I asked, looking back. Reid nodded as studied a handful of magazines, turning towards me. </p><p>“Yes, I’d say that’s –“ he finally looked up and cut off, blinking in surprise seeing my precarious position. “What are you – that’s not safe!” </p><p>The magazines were tossed down and he was at my side in the next moment, bracing a hand against my lower back to keep me steady. I was so caught off guard by his concern I didn’t even have a chance to be flustered as I told him, “It’s okay, I do it all the time. I can’t even reach cupboards half the time so I pretty much live on countertops –“</p><p>“There are approximately 30,000 deaths from fall-related injuries, which has increased by nearly 42% in the last six years, Aria,” he chided, voice tight with alarm as he took my hand, holding tight as he guided me down safely. “Falls in the home are the most common cause of injury and death for people under the age of 65. You should never be climbing onto furniture if you can help it.”</p><p>Though I was now down from the chair his hand lingered in mine for a moment, his soft brown eyes casting over me in mild distress. In my twenty-one years on this earth I’d <i>never</i> had anyone worry about me climbing on things like he was right now. He was so genuinely concerned and maybe it was dumb – I mean, it was just common safety sense – but I was honestly touched. </p><p>He must’ve taken my silent staring negatively. When he realized he was still holding me he quickly pulled away and reached up, rubbing the back of his neck as he offered meekly, “I’m sorry. That was a little much –“</p><p>“No, no. It wasn’t,” I said quickly, trying to reign in the smile growing on my face. I rested a hand on his arm to give a squeeze as I stepped around him. “You handle everything taller than the counters and I’ll stay off the furniture.”</p><p>With a shy smile, he gave me a quick nod and took over reading the mail I’d been going through. The warmth bubbling in me from his protectiveness settled in my chest, keeping that giddy smile in place effortlessly. Rossi had finished digging through the closet, so I made for the bedroom area. </p><p>He looked up as I approached, and the smirk he sent me froze me to the spot for half a moment, unprepared. He sidled past me and said pointedly, “nearly 42%, DiMaggio.”</p><p>“<i>Go</i>,” I snipped, nudging his arm towards the bookshelves against the far wall. He snickered to himself as I willed the blush to go away, forcing myself to focus on what I was doing instead of the warmth lingering from Reid’s hand holding mine. </p><p>There was nothing inside the haphazard wardrobe except for dust and some moth-eaten shirts, but as I shut the doors again, the corner of a box beneath the bed caught my eye. I slid it out easily enough, but then sunk onto my knees with a huff when I saw the lock holding it shut. Hopeful, I gave an experimental tug, but it didn’t budge. </p><p>“Hey Rossi,” I asked, shifting back and pointing to my predicament as he turned. “Can you help me get this open?</p><p>He studied the box for a moment and then without warning he stepped up and kicked the lock with his heel, snapping it right off in one clean movement and sending it clattering to the floor. I gaped at the now-broken lock for several moments, and then turned my stunned expression up to him. </p><p>He gave me a questioning frown. “What?”</p><p>“I meant like find some tools or help me pry it open! How did you even <i>do</i> that so easily? What, do you moonlight for the mob or something?”</p><p>He gave me a brief smirk before turning back to the shelves he’d been examining. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.”</p><p>“And I believe you would, Al Capone,” I said warily, giving him one last side-eye as I pushed the lock aside, scooting closer as I lifted the lid of the box. Lying on top among old, discarded junk was a picture of Francis Goehring and a woman who looked surprisingly similar to the victims he’d left behind. When I felt Reid coming to stand beside me, I mused, “this must mean a lot to him if he held onto it for so long.”</p><p>“I agree. It looks old, too. It must be a significant part of his life from a while ago,” he added, taking it to study as I pulled the top tray out of the box. The first layer was a bundle of old jackets and shirts, but as I pawed them aside I heard something clanking around beneath. Pulling out the clothes, I found what had to be at least a dozen cassette tapes lying along the bottom. </p><p>“Jackpot,” I said, getting both Reid and Rossi’s attention as I held one of them up. “Looks like he enjoys making home movies.”</p><p>--</p><p>“<i>An earthly kingdom cannot exist without the inequality of persons. Martin Luther King understood the weak will always serve the strong. Like me. He had dreams and ideas</i>.”</p><p>Emily and I both made faces, <i>again</i>, as Francis continued to drone on and on to the camera. We were on the second home video and somehow it was even worse than the first. </p><p>“It’s funny,” Reid noted from his spot on the desk to my right. “He’s using the chair as a throne and he’s framing himself intentionally with a low angle to give him power and dominance in the frame.”</p><p>“It seems the only way he gets the respect he thinks he deserves is when he gives it to himself,” I pointed out. Emily snorted and nodded in agreement as she groaned, </p><p>“We have eleven more tapes of this?” </p><p>She slumped in her chair at Reid’s confirmation and I made a noise of agreement as Francis continued on. </p><p>“<i>First, I will build a compound, a kingdom. Second, I will arm, protect, and fortify my kingdom. Third, I will keep women as serfs to serve my every need</i>.”</p><p>Emily and I turned to one another, sharing a disgusted look as the second tape finally came to an end. </p><p>“How did this guy get a wife?” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose as he continued to drone on. “I mean the mustache is bad enough, but pair that with the misogynistic bullshit he’s spewing…”</p><p>“Apparently love is blind <i>and</i> deaf,” I agreed, letting out a sigh of relief as his droning finally came to an end.  “Well, it’s clear he moved out of the trailer. I’d be willing to bet this kingdom of his has already become a reality.” </p><p>Reid nodded in concerned agreement as Emily added, “keeping women to serve him seems to be a big part of his manifesto. You know… it’s possible all these women are still alive.”</p><p>Before Reid or I could elaborate on that further, JJ leaned into the conference room and announced, </p><p>“Hey. We think we’ve got something. Goehring’s wife just told Hotch and Rossi that they had a 9-acre farm.” Emily, Reid, and I all shared a look of realization, and JJ frowned between us. “Does that mean something?” </p><p>Reid was hopping off the desk, rushing to grab his map as I explained, “in his first video, Goehring said his dream was starting with nine acres.”</p><p>“Dream?” JJ asked, and I heard Emily make a noise of irritated confirmation from behind me as I moved to Reid’s side and helped him smooth the map down. The two of them joined us at the table and Reid asked quickly, </p><p>“JJ, do you know where the farm is?”</p><p>“Just outside city limits. Gibson Flats.”</p><p>Reid and I both pointed to the same spot on the map, hands bumping briefly. The two of us pulled back instantly and I didn’t miss the identical bemused smiles on Emily and JJ’s faces as Reid said quickly, “it’s right inside the comfort zone. This has to be where his <i>kingdom</i> is.”</p><p>“Let’s go tell Hotch,” JJ said urgently, turning to lead us out of the conference room. Reid snagged the map fell into step with me as we hurried after the other two. Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan all looked up as we approached the table they were gathered around. </p><p>“Did you find the farm?” Hotch asked quickly, looking down at the paper as Reid laid it out again. He tapped the location and Hotch shared a look with the rest of us. “Alright. Morgan and Aria, we’ll go to the farm with the locals. Emily and JJ, I want you both here with Goehring’s wife. Find out all you can about him. Reid and Rossi, keep on those home movies. See if we can find anything else about his plans that will help us.”</p><p>After sharing a quick smile between us all, our groups all split off for our respective assignments. Hotch eyed me as I came up to him, and his frown of determination shifted into a frown of worry. </p><p>“Do you have your gun?” I tugged up the hem of my skirt just a hint to show him the bottom of my holster. He gave an approving nod and then tugged the keys from his pocket, passing them over to me. “How fast can you get us there?”</p><p>With a wry smile, I tossed the keys up and led the way out of the station. “We’re about to find out.”</p><p>We skid to a stop at the farm in less than fifteen minutes and Hotch was jumping out before I’d even fully stopped. Morgan and I rushed after him as he called out, “Sheriff, let me know when they’ve swept the house for explosives. Let’s check the farm to see if we can find her. Aria, spread out but stay close to Morgan and I.”</p><p>Hotch went one way across the farm as Morgan went the other, both calling out Angela’s name. I took a path directly between them, matching their pace and calling out her name every couple of feet. </p><p>As I passed by a small, unkept garden, a figure in the dirt caught my attention. My heart tightened as I moved closer, and sure enough: Angela’s bloodied, lifeless body was lying in a shallow, half-dug grave. </p><p>“Hotch!” I called, moving forward to kneel beside the latest victim. “I’ve got her!”</p><p>I heard him calling out to Morgan, and moments later he was crouched at my side, gentle hand on my back for just a moment; his way to check if I was alright. He knew I was still a little uneasy with the bodies, as much as I tried to pretend I wasn’t. When I gave a nod, he pulled his hand back and shifted forward to study the body before us. He reached out and rested two fingers against the pulse point in her neck, but almost instantly he withdrew in surprise.</p><p>Looking up in concern, I asked quickly,</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“She’s still warm. This was recent.”</p><p>Morgan, having just crouched across from us, tugged at her shirt to examine the wounds on her torso. “The blood’s still warm too. This was recent.” </p><p>My eyes widened in surprise, and I looked between them. “But Goehring’s been dead almost twelve hours now. That means he couldn’t have done this.”</p><p>Hotch met my look with one of his own as he shook his head.</p><p>“No. He has a partner.”</p><p>--</p><p>“Angela’s been dead no more than half an hour,” Hotch reported as he led Reid and Rossi to where Morgan and I were gathered the moment they arrived. As requested, Reid has his map and he quickly spread it out over the hood of the SUV alongside the map the Sheriff had marked. </p><p>“Roadblocks were set up within a 40-mile radius,” I told him, and Reid instantly tugged out a pen to start marking his own map to match. As I’d mentioned to Hotch, that was still within his comfort zone. Which meant…</p><p>“Sheriff, somebody around here must know who Goehring’s partner is,” Hotch started, picking up on my thoughts instantly. Rossi nodded in agreement and said, </p><p>“We should try Goehring’s pals with the Militia. They seem pretty involved in his life, according to his wife. Maybe they can give us something we can use.”</p><p>The sheriff frowned and said slowly, “Militia leader is Harris Townsend. Owns a bar called the Horse Post. You can try talkin’ to him but I can’t guarantee he’ll be helpful to feds.”</p><p>“I figured as much,” Rossi agreed. “That’s why I think we should send Morgan to talk to him.”</p><p>Morgan pulled back in surprise, giving Rossi a skeptical side-eye as he scoffed, “What? All due respect Rossi, but you’ve got an entire team to pick from. You’re choosin’ me? You serious?”</p><p>“No offense, but do you <i>really</i> want to do that?” Sheriff asked warily, looking between the two of them. Rossi nodded and explained simply, </p><p>“They know we’re here. They’re ready for us, but you’re the last face they’d expect to show up. Which is why I also think you should take Aria.”</p><p>“No. No way,” Morgan cut in instantly before I’d even fully registered what I’d just been volunteered for. Reid looked up in surprise from his map, brows furrowing at what Rossi had said. “I’d already be gettin’ them riled up. Last thing we need is her gettin’ caught in whatever goes down.”</p><p>As I went to talk, Rossi shrugged and continued, “there’s no way we’re sending you in alone, and the two of you are the minorities that the Militia look down on the most. If we want to catch them off guard, our best bet is you two.”</p><p>Again, I went to speak, but it was Hotch this time that shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with that. I already don’t like sending Morgan, but having both of them go in is too risky.”</p><p>“I want to help,” I spoke up before anyone else could speak for me. All four men gathered around the SUV turned to stare at me in surprise. “I’ll have Morgan right there, and I’m armed. If this helps us find Goehring’s partner and keeps him from killing anyone else, I’m game.”</p><p>Hotch still looked uncertain, and even Reid looked concerned, but Rossi nodded in support of me. “Trust me. She might be small, but after seeing her handle herself at the trailer park this morning, I’m sure she can hold her own now.”</p><p>Morgan chuckled and Reid gave me a smile; Hotch turned to frown down at me. “What happened at the trailer park?”</p><p>“I got sassy and climbed a chair,” I dismissed quickly. His brows creased a bit more but before he could push the matter I added, “Really, Hotch. I want to do this.”</p><p>His lips pressed together as he studied me for several more moments. Finally, knowing we were running low on time, he gave a terse nod. Morgan reached out and wrapped an arm around my shoulders as Hotch sighed, </p><p>“I don’t want you leaving –“</p><p>“I’ll stick closer than his own shadow,” I assured instantly, nudging Morgan’s arm playfully as he stepped around me, nodding to the SUV.</p><p>“Let’s go, Sunshine.”</p><p>As I turned to follow, it was Reid that reached out to stop me. His fingers lingered on my arm and I looked up at him curiously. He opened his mouth to say something, and almost instantly closed it, clearing his throat. </p><p>“Just, uh, be careful,” was what he forced out. </p><p>Ah, there were the butterflies from earlier. I nodded up at him and teased, “don’t worry. I’ll leave the chair-climbing to Mr. Clean. If he falls, his eyebrows will cushion the impact –“</p><p>“<i>Ay</i>,” Morgan snapped, leaning out the window and scowling at me. “Let’s <i>go</i>.”</p><p>Reid and giggled and I scampered around to climb inside, waving at the others as Morgan pulled out onto the road. The drive was a short one, filled with the two of us bickering over the radio station and slapping the other’s hand away from the dial. When he pulled up to the bar, though, the smile faded off his face. </p><p>As I went to get out, Morgan caught my elbow and tugged me back into my seat. “Look, when we get in there, I want you to stay behind me. Whatever you do, don't turn your back on that door. Do you understand me?" </p><p>"I can handle myself –" I started; Morgan gave my arm a squeeze in understanding.</p><p>"I know. But I'm not taking <i>any</i> chances with you. No matter how sassy you think you are. Okay?"</p><p>With a smile, I gave him an agreeing nod and he gently nudged me towards the door. As we circled the SUV and approached the door, Morgan slipped ahead of me to lead us into the bar. Almost instantly, the lively chatter fell to a tense silence. I stood just at his side, a hint behind him, my hand hanging down and resting against my gun. </p><p>Instantly, I saw why Morgan had told me not to put my back to the door. Three more men stepped up into the doorway, blocking our exit, their eyes trained on me. Every single head swiveled to us, and the angry looks only intensified as Morgan held up his badge. </p><p>“We’re lookin’ for Harris Townsend –“</p><p>“Put your badge away,” a man at one of the tables drawled irritably. “We know who y’are.”</p><p>“We only wanna talk,” Morgan said slowly, tucking his badge away and moving a little further inside. I matched his movement, an eye trained on the men that were slowly hedging after us. “We heard he runs this bar.”</p><p>“I do,” the man – Harris – confirmed, giving us a cold glance over his shoulder before turning back around. “Talkin’ isn’t exactly what you lot are known for.”</p><p>Morgan nodded in understanding and tried, “we’re trying to find a missing woman –“</p><p>“Bobby,” Harris interrupted, getting to his feet and giving me a dismissive glance. My irritation spiked instantly. “Be a gentleman. Pull up a chair for the little lady.”</p><p>“I’m perfectly capable of standing,” I declined, and instantly he threw back, </p><p>“Then it sounds like you and your buddy are perfectly capable of gettin’ outta my bar. We have manners here, y’know.”</p><p>Just barely, I kept my snort of contempt to myself. Harris clearly caught the snark on my face but instead turned his sharp eyes to Morgan. “Glock 17. Tactical, but European.” Harris turned to show the gun on his hip, and as his hand fell to it, Morgan tensed and brought his hand up to his own, shifting a little closer to me. “Smith &amp; Wesson, this one. Pure American hardware. I wonder which one is more dependable.”</p><p>Morgan spared a brief glance back at me, wordlessly telling me to stay put before he turned and moved further into the bar. “Look. We don’t wanna be here just as much as you don’t want us here, but we have a job to do.”</p><p>Harris studied Morgan before he shook his head. “I never understood how someone like <i>you</i> could trust ‘em.”</p><p>At first, I didn’t get what he was hinting at. Morgan cocked his head just a hint and asked slowly, “someone like me?”</p><p>“How had the federal government ever helped your people, huh?” Harris sneered, and the implication of his words hit me full force. My eyes widened as he drawled on, “slavery, ghettos poverty… the CIA got you all hooked on heroin in the ‘60’s. Crack in the ‘80’s. Now I <i>hate</i> the government, but you? You should <i>despise</i> ‘em –“</p><p>“That’s enough,” I snapped, temper boiling over. Morgan threw me a glance but I didn’t care. “No matter your views on the government, you don’t have the right to make ignorant, racist comments like that –“ </p><p>“Now, are they really <i>ignorant</i> if they’re right, princess?” Harris scoffed. “Think about it, huh? Your own team don’t even care about him. ‘Bout either of you. So don’t get those little panties in a twist when it’s clear I’m right.”</p><p>“And what makes you think they don’t –“</p><p>“There were five other members of your team. Look around. Why d’you think they sent in the two of <i>you</i>?”</p><p>I was ready to keep going but Morgan held out his hand to me, stepping up. “Francis Goehring and a partner abducted and killed four innocent women, the last of which we just found dead in a bed of roses, shot in the back twice. Nobody <i>sent</i> us anywhere. We’re here to do right by her.”</p><p>He glanced back at me, giving a nod, and I stepped up to his side now, arms crossed. “Goehring’s partner is out there somewhere, and we completely understand if you <i>boys</i> are just too afraid to tell us. I get it, it’s scary. But don’t go hiding behind your ridiculous, bigoted lies and your stupid conspiracy theories. Just come out and say it.”</p><p>Harris held my gaze for several moments; Morgan shifted just a hint closer. Slowly, the man ahead of me shook his head and a small smile came to his face. “Alright, little lady, Put the claws away. Look. Goehring was a piece’a dung. We didn’t talk with him more than we had to. I got no idea who his partner is. Just saw him once, with the scope’a my rifle.”</p><p>“When was this?” Morgan asked. Harris shrugged. </p><p>“Don’t rightfully know. Me an’ some’a the boys were out huntin’. He was a small guy. 5’8”, if I’m bein’ generous. He followed Goehring around like he was a private little pack mule. Now look, that’s all I know. You two run back to your precious little friends an’ do what y’want with that.”</p><p>As Morgan turned back to me, the men at the door stepped back and let us pass; I kept my eye on them the entire way to the SUV. At first, we were both quiet. Neither even went to mess with the knob, opting for the silence as we both sat in our own thoughts.</p><p>Finally, though, I couldn’t take it anymore. </p><p>“I kind of want to go back and punch him in the face.”</p><p>The snort Morgan let out caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but giggle along as he shook his head, giving a sigh of agreement. “Ah, he ain’t worth bruisin’ your knuckles, sunshine.”</p><p>There was a lot I wanted to say. There was a lot that had <i>been</i> said that neither of us were okay with. Hearing someone talk to Morgan like that, blatantly being so ignorant and disrespectful, it infuriated me beyond belief. But I knew the more attention I drew to it, the more it would stick. </p><p>So instead of a long, involved speech that detailed how much I cared about him, and how far I’d be willing to go to defend my friend, I settled for promising him simply, “for you? It’d be worth it.”</p><p>A soft, touched smile melted over his face, and though he kept his eyes on the road, he reached out and gave my hand a tight squeeze, saying all he needed to in the simple gesture. We both knew the unspoken words that had settled in the space between us, and I hoped they’d manage to outweigh those that had been thrown out carelessly. </p><p>Judging by the smile on Morgan’s face, I had a feeling they would.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday! I hope y'all had a fun, safe holiday weekend! This is one of my favorite episodes so I hope you're enjoying reading these chapters as much as I've been enjoying writing them. </p><p>We've got one more chapter for this episode, and then we'll have an in-between-episodes chapter. I'll be incorporating some of your suggestions in (and saving the rest for future filler chapters) so if there's still anything you guys want to see, let me know! </p><p>As always thank you guys SO much for your comments. They're what get me through the week and make work bearable! Even if it's just a couple words, I love hearing your thoughts. If you've got the time please leave a comment and let me know what you thought of the chapter! </p><p>Have a beautiful week! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. That's What Friends Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x07 - Identity</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment Morgan and I walked into the station, Hotch was beckoning us to him. The others were gathered in the conference room with the Sheriff, but he led us aside to a quiet corner of the station. Once alone, he turned and crossed his arms as he took in the pair of us. I’m sure he could pick up on the mood we were in from the bar, and I didn’t miss the concern on his face as he asked,</p>
<p>“How did it go?” </p>
<p>Morgan went to answer but I spoke up before he could. “Everyone in this town is an asshole and apparently punching people in the face isn’t an acceptable way to solve problems in the FBI.”</p>
<p>Hotch blinked down at me, a mix of mild alarm and amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he said slowly, “not usually, no.”</p>
<p>Morgan snorted and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me to his side. “L’il miss sunshine’s got a lot of sass in her, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>“It sounds like it went as well as could be expected, then,” Hotch deduced, arms tightening over his chest. Morgan gave a nod and said simply, </p>
<p>“Yeah. Harris Townsend didn’t tell us more than we already knew. All he really did was confirm that he’s got a partner. Small, unassuming, and followed Goehring around.”</p>
<p>Hotch pressed his lips together in his usual displeased frown and gave a curt nod, beckoning the others in the conference room to join us. </p>
<p>“It’s not much, but at least we have confirmation. The police finished sweeping the farmhouse for explosives, so I’m taking Rossi and Reid to check it out. Aria, I’d like your eyes on the scene too, since you also studied his trailer. Morgan, JJ and Garcia are following up on possible leads for Goehring’s partner. I know you didn’t get a lot, but help them as much as you can.”</p>
<p>Morgan gave Hotch a nod and mussed my hair as he pulled his arm back, giving a cheeky grin as I smacked his hand down. “I’ve got pent-up anger and I still want to punch someone. Don’t test me, Mr. Clean.”</p>
<p>Rossi snorted at my comment as he and Reid gathered with us. As he and Hotch led the way out of the station, Reid came up to my side and asked, </p>
<p>“Did it go okay at the bar?”</p>
<p>As we followed the other two, I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. “About as well as it could when you’re dealing with racist militia jerks.”</p>
<p>Reid quirked a smile in understanding as he reached out, taking the door from Hotch and letting me out ahead of him. The four of us piled back into the rolling oven disguised as an SUV; thankfully the trip didn’t take us too long. How people lived in this heat willingly, I’d never know. </p>
<p>The Sheriff was already waiting outside the house we pulled up in front of, beckoning us to follow as he jogged up the steps to the front door. </p>
<p>“Didn’t find any explosives,” he prefaced, stepping aside as the four of us went in after him. “Nothing rigged, either, but I’d still be careful.”</p>
<p>Well, <i>that</i> was comforting.</p>
<p>The house was almost the exact opposite of the trailer. It was actually warm and inviting, cleaned within an inch of its life, and even tastefully decorated. Reid and I shared a look of surprise, and clearly Rossi was on the same brainwave. </p>
<p>“That’s odd. Compared to the trailer, this is pleasantly cozy…”</p>
<p>“I don’t feel like I’m gonna catch six different diseases if I bump into something,” I muttered to myself. Reid, having heard my comment, bit back a giggle as he followed Rossi further into the house. </p>
<p>As Hotch studied the entertainment center and all its DVD’s, I turned to the accent table by the door. It had several stacks of magazines, just like the ones at the trailer, though these were clean and orderly. Curiously, I pulled open the top drawers; just more magazines and miscellaneous junk. </p>
<p>When I tugged open the middle drawer, though, alarm spiked through me. Two tapes – like we’d found at the trailer – were lying inside, both hastily unraveled in an attempt to destroy them.</p>
<p>“Hey, Hotch?” I asked slowly, pulling my find out of the drawer to study them further. </p>
<p>“Yeah?” he called back; I heard him putting things back and I turned to meet his gaze. He saw the frown on my face and skirted past the Sheriff to hurry to my side. </p>
<p>“These tapes have the names of the missing women,” I murmured, holding them up for him to see. He took them briefly to examine and then helped me scoop up the unraveled tape, setting them into my hands gently. </p>
<p>“We need to get these to Garcia immediately. Have one of the officers outside to run these to the station and then come right back.”</p>
<p>With a quick nod, I scampered past him and hurried down the steps to the group of police cars parked by the driveway. Three of the officers were gathered talking; none of them looked up as I paused by their group. </p>
<p>“Excuse me,” I asked as politely as I could, smiling up at them. All three paused their conversation briefly, gave me indifferent glances, and then went back to talking. My irritation sparked instantly, and the smile dropped off my face. “Ex<i>cuse</i> me.”</p>
<p>Two of the officers fully ignored me, but the third had the audacity to roll his eyes and let out a huff of annoyance. <i>Man</i> he was lucky my hands were full. </p>
<p>“<i>Hey</i>,” I snapped, my voice sharper and louder than I’d meant, making all three of them give a start as they turned to scowl at me. <i>Good</i>. “I need one of you three <i>lovely</i> gentlemen to get this back to the rest of my team at the station.”</p>
<p>“We’re a little busy right now, <i>hun</i>,” Officer Eye-Roll dismissed, immediately reaching the end of my already-short patience as he turned to pick up where he’d left off. “So, as I was sayin’ –“</p>
<p>Shoving between the other two assholes, I pushed the tapes into his arms and crossed my own so he couldn’t return them. He went to object and I told him sharply, “I’m not asking again. Get these tapes back to my team <i>now</i>. If you’re not able to, then I don’t mind taking you with me so you can tell my unit chief exactly what’s stopping you from doing what he requested.”</p>
<p>His mouth slowly closed. <i>Good decision</i>. Though he was still glaring at me, he gave a single nod and turned to slink to one of the police cars. The other two officers shared a quick glance and scattered before I could turn to them. </p>
<p>Irritably I spun on my heel and stalked back up to the house. Hearing my heels on the hardwood, Hotch glanced up from the entertainment center he’d gone back to. I caught his eye and when he saw my expression, he motioned me over with a nod of his head. </p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p>“Honestly at this point I don’t know if I’m more fed up with the militia or the officers,” I growled. Hotch glanced out through the front door and then down to me as he asked in concern, </p>
<p>“If they gave you a problem I’ll go –“</p>
<p>“Oh, I handled it,” I bit out. At the look on his face I felt the need to assure, “I didn’t punch anyone. Yet.”</p>
<p>He gave me a small, amused smile and told me, “I’m glad you took care of it. Reid’s in the kitchen. Go see what he’s got so far.”</p>
<p>“What, no face-punching?” I asked in feigned surprise as I backed for the other room. He gave a pointed look and warned, </p>
<p>“Only if it’s deserved.”</p>
<p>Laughing and giving him a wink, I turned and scampered off to find the scruffy doctor. He was standing with his back to me, studying a piece of paper tacked up onto the wall. Not wanting to scare him – like everyone on the team managed to do <i>me</i> when they showed up unannounced – I asked him,</p>
<p>“What’s that?”</p>
<p>He glanced back at me over his shoulder, sparing a smile as I came up to his side. “It’s rules for the house. This looks like Francis Goehring’s handwriting.”</p>
<p>“<i>One: all actions must serve to please the Master. Two: insubordination will result in punishment…</i> Is this his new manifesto? Like a ramped-up version of what he gave on the tapes?”</p>
<p>“That’s what I think,” Reid agreed, moving past me to the fridge and tugging a picture off the clip. “Notice how <i>Master</i> is singular and capitalized? It emphasizes there’s only one dominant partner.”</p>
<p>I followed him over, looking down over his arm at the photo of Goehring. “So what, his partner’s more of a servant?”</p>
<p>“I think his partner is actually his <i>serf</i>,” he reasoned, nodding to the room around us. “He’s the one doing whatever Goehring needs. Cleaning the house, minding the lawn, helping him abduct the women…”</p>
<p>“Well, wait,” I asked, tipping my head back to look up at Reid. He met my gaze and for a heartbeat I was lost in his golden eyes. When a door just outside the kitchen squeaked open, I broke away from my embarrassing trance and looked back to the picture. “If, um, if his partner is the serf, what are the female slaves for?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I think I can answer that,” Rossi told us solemnly as he stepped out from behind the door that had opened. Reid and I looked over to him, and the unsettled frown on his face told me I really wasn’t gonna like the answer he had to give. Reid sat the picture down as Rossi called for Hotch. </p>
<p>He and Reid followed behind me as Rossi led us down into the basement of the house. He pushed open a door and as I entered the room, it took me a second to take in what was around me. It was nearly empty, save for a metal-framed bed with a bare mattress, a storage closet to the right, and a single wooden chair. </p>
<p>To call it a ‘chair’ was a crude description of what it really was. The seat had a gap down the center, and along the legs, arms, and back of the contraption were leather restraints. Parts of the wood were stained with old blood. </p>
<p>“He was torturing them,” I said in a small, sickened voice, stepping out of the way to let Hotch and Reid inside as well. The Sheriff and the two officers I’d dealt with outside had followed us down, and the others all dispersed through the room as Reid went to study the ‘chair’. </p>
<p>“At least now we know why he went so long between victims,” he sighed, leaning closer to examine the restraints. They were kept for <i>months</i>, and they’d been tortured the whole time? My heart sunk to my stomach at the thought and I had to look away. I opted to join Hotch instead of observing the torture seat. </p>
<p>“This is where he kept them,” Hotch announced as he opened the doors of the storage closet; his face pulled into a grimace. As I came to his side, he knelt down and pushed up the lid to a box inside and I actually recoiled as he murmured, “the blood’s fresh.”</p>
<p>Okay, it wasn’t any better over here either. The box was hardly three feet by three feet. If the women were kept in there, they’d have been curled up and stuffed inside like an old coat. How terrifying, how <i>painful</i>, would that have been? To be hurt for hours and then trapped in a tiny little hole for God knows <i>how long</i>, just waiting for the pain to start again until their bodies gave out…</p>
<p>“It had to have taken a long time for them to die,” I realized softly, stepping away as my heart constricted painfully in my chest. Reid looked up hearing my comment, and his face softened when he caught my expression. </p>
<p>“Aria?” he prompted as he came to my side. When I didn’t answer, his hand reached up tentatively and rested on my arm. Instantly I leaned into his touch and to my surprise he stepped closer, offering me his silent comfort. </p>
<p>“These are the last moments they had. Stuck in a basement with two sadistic men who tortured them and stuffed them away,” I said softly, eyes fixed on the chair. I could practically hear their screams, see the terror on their faces... My arms wrapped around me and I shook my head just a bit, trying to get those images out of my head. </p>
<p>“I’ve got something here,” Rossi announced to the room. All of us turned to watch as he lifted the bed, and an actual gasp left me. The bottom was covered with different types of restraints, whips, handcuffs, <i>a freaking saw</i>, a <i>facemask</i> with <i>nails</i>… “Home-made torture tools.”</p>
<p>“That’s awful,” I breathed, goosebumps prickling down my arm. Reid felt me tense and the hand on my arm tightened a bit to offer comfort. From across the room, one of the officers shrugged and nudged his friend.</p>
<p>“I dunno about <i>awful</i>. I mean, some chicks dig this kinda stuff,” he shrugged, and his buddy beside him nodded his agreement, lips flicking up into the hint of an agreeing smirk. My stomach churned at his words, and as if they hadn’t been bad enough, his eyes slid to me and he gave a playful grin. “Ain’t that right?”</p>
<p>My mouth dropped open and I recoiled on instinct, so taken aback all I could do was gape at him. Rossi whipped around to say something but Hotch beat him to it. </p>
<p>“That’s enough,” he barked, ripping his gloves off as he took a step towards them. “Upstairs. I don’t want either of you near this crime scene anymore.”</p>
<p>The two officers shared quick looks of surprise. Did they really not see the problem with what had just been said?! The one who’d spoken to me started, “oh, sir, I was just messin’ around. I didn’t mean it like –“ </p>
<p>“<i>Now</i>.”</p>
<p>When they still didn’t move, the Sheriff turned to them incredulously and snapped, “did y’all not hear him? Get goin’!”</p>
<p>They were scrambling up the steps before he’d finished talking. Hotch looked back to me, took in my appearance, and then flicked his eyes to Reid. “You two head upstairs while we finish up down here.”</p>
<p>Though I nodded, I had trouble getting myself to move. When Reid’s hand pulled back from my arm I instantly missed the warmth. In the next moment, though, I felt his touch against my lower back, ushering me forward. Now that he’d gotten me going, I hurried past the others and practically ran up to the kitchen.</p>
<p>Neither of us spoke as we left the house. When we got to the SUV, Reid skirted past me and managed to get the door before I’d even reached for the handle. He pulled it open for me, and instead of just getting in I turned to look up at him.</p>
<p>“Sorry for kinda freaking out,” I said quietly, giving a small, apologetic smile. Reid stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head. </p>
<p>“You didn’t, at all. It upset me too. It’s hard to see something like that,” he promised, and then he frowned and glanced back to where the two officers were gathered by the patrol cars. “And that – he was out of line making a comment like that to you. It was a very inappropriate thing to say.”</p>
<p>“Honestly, it just bothers me because I know that people think like that. They can’t put themselves in other people’s shoes and picture what they must’ve gone through, you know?” I vented, shaking my head and giving a humorless chuckle. Reid just nodded but instead of looking at me, his gaze dropped to the hand he pulled out of his pocket. He had a quarter in his hand, and when he felt me staring he peeked up at me. </p>
<p>“Um, this is – this is an easier trick,” he prefaced, as if he was testing the waters with me. Instantly I lit up, sitting up straighter and now staring readily at him. “I can - I’ll make the quarter disappear.”</p>
<p>My brows went up and I gave him a curious smile. “Yeah? Let’s see it, Dr. Reid.”</p>
<p>With a small, blushing smile, he cleared his throat and held up the quarter for me to examine. With an approving nod, he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed them over it, and then flipped the quarter up onto his thumb. He flicked it up into the air and caught it easily, closing his fist and holding it out to me as he flipped it over and opened his hand. </p>
<p>His palm was empty, and my jaw actually dropped. </p>
<p>“What?! You caught it,” I said instantly, dropping my gaze to the pavement; no quarter. “How did – where did it go?”</p>
<p>“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he started, and when he went to stuff his hands back in his pockets, I caught them both with my own and turned them over to study them meticulously. They were both empty.</p>
<p>“You’re a wizard,” I declared, eyeing him suspiciously. Still holding his hands, I slid my touch up to his wrists. I mean, I didn’t really expect him to have like, secret quarter-catching pockets in his sleeves… okay maybe I did, just a little bit. “Okay, you bested me this time, but I’m gonna figure you out. Mark my words.”</p>
<p>He laughed as he watched me pat down his arms, up to his elbows before finally dropping my hold with a huff. He finally did stuff his hands back in his pockets as he gave an easy shrug. “Try all you want. JJ’s said the same thing for almost five years.” </p>
<p>“Challenge accepted,” I promised him, matching his smile. As our soft chuckles died out, I looked back up at him and said softly, “thank you for being so nice to me. <i>Sei un buon amico.</i>”</p>
<p>His radiant smile doubled instantly into a breathtaking grin, knocking the common sense straight out of me. We both enjoyed our little ‘inside joke’ of speaking random phrases to each other, but his pure enjoyment every time always got me all smiley and scatterbrained.  </p>
<p>“What does that mean?”</p>
<p>“You’re a good friend,” I told him, both as a translation and a compliment. Reid blinked in surprise, and the grin softened as he let my words sink in. His face tinted pink and he asked in a small voice, </p>
<p>“We’re friends?”</p>
<p>“Of course, Reid,” I told him without hesitation. Wait. Had I crossed a line in assuming we were? “I mean, if you want to be. I just, I – I like to think we are.”</p>
<p>Reid was nodding eagerly before I’d even finished my nervous rambling. “Yeah! I mean, yeah. We’re friends. Which means you – you don’t need to thank me for being nice.” He paused a moment, and then added eagerly, “<i>Eto to, chto delayut druz’ya.</i>.”</p>
<p>Grinning at him now, I flicked my brows up to invite his translation. </p>
<p>“That’s what friends do,” he promised, and instantly warmth went bubbling through me. My heart had to have skipped like, at <i>least</i> six beats as I stared up at him with a dumb grin on my face. I knew I was being kind of weird and blinking up at him with my helpless heart-eyes, but I just couldn’t stop myself.</p>
<p>Thankfully Hotch and Rossi were heading our way, because if I wasn’t careful I was gonna end up blurting out things I’d only ever confessed to Penelope. We both shared a last quick, goofy smile and then scrambled into the SUV, ready to get as far from this hell house as possible.  </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The ride back to the station had been a quiet one, and though I fully expected Hotch to take me aside when we got back, the officers were already gathering to hear our profile. He gave me a quick glance that promised a talk later, and I gave him an understanding smile and nod as I inched myself as far from the gathering as I could get. Giving a profile was one of the last things I wanted to do at the moment. Right now, I <i>really</i> didn’t want to be the center of attention in front of the officers I was already having issues with. </p>
<p>As the team began to relay all the information we’d gathered, a gentle hand settled on my arm. JJ gave me a warm smile when I met her gaze, and she motioned for me to follow her to the conference room. Once inside, she eased the door shut and then turned back to face me. </p>
<p>“Hotch told you what the officer said,” I deduced before she could say anything, noting the look of almost motherly concern in her eyes. She gave a simple nod. “I’m okay, really. It just – it took me off guard and I wasn’t expecting –“</p>
<p>“Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself,” JJ promised quickly. “I’m not here to judge you. I just wanted to see how you were doing, because I can see you’re still bothered.”</p>
<p>For several moments I thought about just brushing her off, lying that I was fine and then running out before she could pry. But… I liked JJ. A lot. She was sweet and compassionate, and unlike the others, she wasn’t a hardened profiler. Besides Penelope, she was the closest to my position and I knew out of everyone she’d understand my feelings the best, no matter how dumb I thought they were. </p>
<p>“It’s not really what that officer said. It’s… sometimes I feel like I’m not tough enough to handle the cases,” I admitted in a small voice, dropping my eyes to study the pattern of the carpet as my fingers tangled into my skirt, chest tightening as I finally admitted what’d been nagging at me since we left the jet. “Like, Hotch and Rossi and Reid all saw the same things I did, and they can still work like they’re supposed to. I see some blood and a creepy basement and I’m useless. Hotch had to get Reid to take me outside. I mean, it’s like at every turn I keep needing someone to pretty much literally hold my hand and cover my eyes when it gets to be too much –”</p>
<p>My words unexpectedly caught in my throat and I cut off, taking a shaky breath. Whether it was the scene in the basement or the fact that I’d finally admitted the gnawing negativity planted in my mind (probably a healthy combination of both, truth be told), I was suddenly feeling very small and very overwhelmed. </p>
<p>JJ stepped forward and wordlessly pulled me into a tight hug. Though she was petite, she was still taller than me – okay honestly, who wasn’t? – and she hugged like a sumo wrestler out for a quick win. I sank into her hold, face buried into her shoulder. Somehow, she knew that was exactly what I needed right then; just a little bit of reassurance that things were okay. With a few deep breaths and JJ’s gentle hands running up and down my back in quiet comfort, I managed to push aside the unease dwelling in my chest, and I felt the teensiest bit better. </p>
<p>“You know, there’s a reason I’m not a profiler,” she told me as we finally pulled apart, hands coming up to push my hair back from my face as she gave me a meek smile. “Maybe if I really put myself into it, I could figure out the classes and get my qualifications, but you know what? I really don’t know if I could handle all that you guys see and do.”</p>
<p>“The rest of the team manages,” I pointed out, and JJ gave a small chuckle, shrugging her shoulders. </p>
<p>“Yeah, you know why? Everyone else on the team has been doing this for <i>years</i>. It’s taken hundreds upon hundreds of cases for the others to build up that thick skin and let things slide off so they can push through. And sometimes they still can’t. Everyone gets affected by something in one way or another. Just because Hotch can handle this case doesn’t mean he’ll be fine handling the next. What we see in this job… it’s a lot for <i>anyone</i>, and you’ve only been with us for four months. It’s not something you get used to overnight. I’d be worried if you <i>weren’t</i> affected by it.”</p>
<p>JJ opened the door to the office and led us out to the break room in silence, letting me mull over what she’d said. I knew she had a point, and I knew part of this was me just being hard on myself, feeling like I had to be at the same level of the team after just sixteen weeks.  The two of us stood together as she made a cup of coffee and I plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter. </p>
<p>Only after she’d taken a sip – and I’d nearly finished my snack – did she finally turn back to me. She stepped up and rested a hand on my arm, giving a small squeeze as she said softly, “you’re doing just fine, Aria. I promise. This is a hard case to stomach, any way you look at it. And, sometimes, cases will just keep getting worse. So, start teaching yourself that it’s okay to be affected, and if you need to step away and make some terrible police station coffee to let yourself detach for just a bit, that’s okay.”</p>
<p>She lifted her coffee cup and took a sip, grimacing to prove a point. When I finally cracked a smile and giggled at her, JJ grinned and slid her arm around me, leaning into a hug. I hugged her to me again as I said honestly, “thanks, JJ. That was exactly what I needed to hear.”</p>
<p>“You can always talk to me if you need to, kiddo,” she promised, and turned to meet my eyes completely. “Are you gonna be okay?”</p>
<p>“I am,” I promised her with a firm nod. “Between your pep talk and Reid’s magic trick I’m doing a lot better.”</p>
<p>JJ’s brows lifted to her hairline and she asked incredulously, “Spence did a magic trick for you?”</p>
<p>Why was that surprising? Slowly, I nodded. “Yeah. He made a quarter disappear.”</p>
<p>“Let me guess, you checked his hands?”</p>
<p>“And his arms,” I confirmed, watching JJ’s eyes take on a surprisingly determined gleam. </p>
<p>“It’s such a simple trick and I can’t figure it out. Did he tell you how he did it?” </p>
<p>“No,” I huffed, and we shared the same look of annoyance. “We’re gonna crack him, though.”</p>
<p>“Deal,” she laughed, raising her cup in a one-sided toast before taking another sip and grimacing again. As the profile came to an end and the officers dispersed, I saw Hotch instantly sweeping the room for me. He caught sight us in the break room and was at our side a moment later. </p>
<p>He looked between both of us, noting our smiles, and he lifted a brow slowly. “Everything alright?”</p>
<p>“Peachy keen, jellybean,” I promised; JJ snorted into her coffee. Giving me a departing wink, she scuttled past Hotch and made for the conference room. Our boss just fought a smile off his face as he motioned for me to join the others.   </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Slowly, Hotch reached out and tugged the pencil from my grip, putting it out of reach. My narrowed eyes didn’t leave Morgan, daring him to make another joke. He’d heard JJ asking Reid about showing me a magic trick and he’d been heckling the scruffy doctor ever since. </p>
<p>Emily, JJ, and Rossi had gone to follow up on a lead that Reid and Penelope had come across. With all the roses being planted, it was likely Goehring’s partner – his <i>serf</i> – had been the one buying them, and there had to be a trail. </p>
<p>While they were scavenging the mom-and-pop garden stores that didn’t have Penelope-accessible records, we were cross-referencing the rest that she’d managed to find online. Well, <i>Reid</i> was cross-referencing. Morgan was digging his own grave with each jab he gave, I was plotting the quickest and most efficient murder I could pull off, and Hotch was fighting the losing battle of keeping us on track. </p>
<p>“I mean, I thought we talked about this,” Morgan chuckled, still not dropping it though I’d warned him twice. Reid’s lips pressed together as his brow furrowed, trying to focus on the sheets he was skimming at lightning speed. “Between the magic and the nerdy facts, you’re never gonna be cool. You gotta at least <i>try</i> to work with me here.”</p>
<p>“Did you ever think <i>you’re</i> the one that isn’t cool?” I snapped; Hotch dropped his head to his hand. Morgan scoffed at my accusation.</p>
<p>“You don’t get much cooler than me, sunshine –“</p>
<p>My hand – regrettably free of things I could stab with or throw – waved at Reid vehemently. “Uh, you do. Case and point. He’s talented enough to memorize encyclopedias and perform wizard tricks –“ Reid’s lip quirked at that – “and all you can do is belittle him and act like a bully.”</p>
<p>“Ay, I’m not bullyin’ him,” Morgan backtracked, possibly <i>finally</i> realizing he’d been coming on a little strong with the antagonizing. “I’m just messin’ around. The kid knows I’m not serious –“</p>
<p>“<i>I’ve got it</i>,” JJ exclaimed, appearing at my side with no warning. With a full-on squeak I jolted into the table, clutching my chest and turning to stare incredulously up at her. With an apologetic smile she patted my back with her free hand as she handed a picture to Hotch. “Henry Frost. Worked at one of the garden stores just a few miles from Goehring’s house.”</p>
<p>“Do we have an address?” Hotch asked immediately, getting to his feet at record speed, ready to escape the incessant bickering. </p>
<p>JJ nodded. “Garcia’s sending it now.”</p>
<p>“Great. JJ, stay with Reid and Morgan and regroup with Rossi, find out all you can about Frost. Aria, call Prentiss and have her meet us at that address.”</p>
<p>As I got to my feet, I looked up at JJ. “Don’t let Morgan be a jerk while I’m gone.” When Morgan gave a huff of indignation, I turned and jammed a finger of warning in his direction. “If I hear you were picking on him, I’ll go full gremlin on you and you will <i>not</i> like it.”</p>
<p>Morgan held up his hands in mock surrender as I backed out of the conference room, glare fixed on him. As I turned to follow Hotch, Reid caught my eye and gave a look of genuine appreciation at my defense, a small smile flickering to life.</p>
<p>I was seriously gonna kill Morgan if he took that away from him one more time. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Emily was waiting for us as we pulled up outside a trailer that was somehow even more run-down than Goehring’s had been. Handing over a pair of gloves as we got out, Hotch nodded to a small charcoal grill that was still smoking. </p>
<p>“See what you can find,” he instructed, waving Emily after him into the house. He didn’t need to say it; I was used to the <i>stay close and come find me as soon as you’re done</i> look. Thankfully, though smoking, the grill wasn’t lit anymore and I could easily dig through all that Frost had been burning. </p>
<p>It was piles and piles of pictures, all with the same burn patterns. Scooping a couple off the top, I hurried into the house and nearly fell over a ripped up couch cushion directly inside the front door. </p>
<p>“What happened here?” I asked in surprise, looking at the completely trashed trailer as I carefully picked my way across the floor. “Did Frost do all this?”</p>
<p>Hotch gave a nod, watching Emily sift through a pile of unraveled tapes at her feet. “He’s destroyed everything he owns. He doesn’t have an identity.”</p>
<p>“That explains why he burned his face off all his pictures,” I realized, holding out what I’d found. He looked them over, nodding in agreement. </p>
<p>“Why?” Emily prompted me, standing and coming to look at them as well. I studied them with her as I said slowly, </p>
<p>“Well… Reid and I said he was acting as Goehring’s serf. With being as submissive as he seems, he’d depend on a dominant partner not only for instruction, but for someone to give him purpose and meaning, right?”</p>
<p>Emily smiled and nodded in confirmation as Hotch added on, “with Goehring gone, he’s starting over. Wiping the slate clean.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but as what?” I asked, shaking my head as I sat the pictures aside. Before either of them could speculate, Hotch’s phone was ringing. He answered and hit the speaker as Emily and I gathered closer. </p>
<p>“Yeah, Garcia?”</p>
<p>“Sir, there’s been another abduction. Just about fifteen minutes ago,” she rushed out, sounding frantic. “At a gas station just down the road from Frost’s trailer. Rossi and JJ are already there and I’ve got the address headed to your phone.”</p>
<p>“Aria and I are on our way,” he said instantly, turning to Emily as he hung up. “Have Reid meet you here. Try to see what you two can find about what he’s doing to start over and call us when you’ve got something.”</p>
<p>Hotch and I raced back to the SUV and he drove so fast he almost put <i>my</i> racing to shame. Rossi and JJ were gathered at the front of the gas station and they looked up as we jogged to meet them. </p>
<p>“I coulda taken the shot,” a woman was telling them, hands on her hips. “I was just afraid’a hittin’ her.”</p>
<p>“Did you get a good look at the man who abducted her?” Hotch pressed, and to our relief she gave an instant nod. </p>
<p>“Yeah, he came in. Big ass bandage on the left side of his face. Bought a beer and pumpkin seed and went back to his truck, just sittin’ there.”</p>
<p>Rossi gave a sigh as he crossed his arms. “That was his M.O., Frost chauffeured Goehring around. Goehring picks a victim, abducts her on foot, and they drive off in separate vehicles.”</p>
<p>“This time Frost had to try and play both roles,” I piped up, piecing together what was laid out in front of us. “He got sloppy and he left a witness and his car.”</p>
<p>Hotch and Rossi nodded as JJ pulled a picture out, tapping on Frost. “Can you confirm that’s the guy you saw?”</p>
<p>To our surprise, the woman shook her head. “Nah, that ain’t him. Here, I got ‘im on my surveillance. I’ll show ya.”</p>
<p>The four of us followed her in and gathered around the small TV she turned towards us. The man on the tape certainly had Frost’s features, but… </p>
<p>“He looks <i>exactly</i> like Goehring,” JJ said in surprise, and Hotch’s words from the trailer hit me. I looked back at him, eyes wide, and said slowly, </p>
<p>“You said he was starting over as something else but I think… I think he’s starting over as <i>someone</i> else.”</p>
<p>Rossi, between us, gave an agreeing nod as he said, “he’s turning himself into his own version of Goehring.”</p>
<p>Hotch, nodding to himself, beckoned me to follow him as he slipped past the others to go outside. JJ and Rossi picked up questioning the owner of the gas station as Hotch and I came to stand where the abduction took place. </p>
<p>“Alright. Walk me through what Frost was thinking,” he instructed, stepping back and crossing his arms. Surprised, I looked back at him, and he gave an encouraging nod. “It’s just the two of us, you don’t need to worry if you get something wrong. I want to see what you come up with.”</p>
<p>“Um, right. Okay. Let me think,” I prefaced, trying to put the pressure off me. Whew. Okay. I could do this. I bgan to pace as I brought a hand to my chin, tapping idly as I started, “So… okay. You’re Goehring. You’re sadistic, painfully straight, and domineering. I’m Frost. A submissive, troubled gay man. I don’t know how to take initiative or be my own person, so I’d need you to take control. You’d give me direction and purpose in life…”</p>
<p>My thoughts stumbled to a stop and I paused, turning to look up at him for a lead.</p>
<p>“Your life is good. It’s finally ideal, exactly how you’ve always pictured it,” Hotch prompted. “Then what do I do?”</p>
<p>My brow furrowed as I started pacing again, saying slowly “you pull the pin on a grenade. You die.”</p>
<p>“And when you lose me…”</p>
<p>“I’d begin to lose my identity,” I said in surprise, the realization dawning on me so suddenly I actually felt the weight of it settling over us. “My whole sense of self was tied to you.”</p>
<p>“Very good,” Hotch praised, smile coming to his face as I looked back to him for confirmation. “What is that a classic sign of?”</p>
<p>“Depersonalization disorder, which was triggered from the stressor of losing a loved one. All that’s left is me.”</p>
<p>“You hate yourself,” Hotch pressed, and I nodded along with him, losing myself to Frost, falling into the thoughts of a disorder I actually understood. Finally, I really felt like I had both feet in this profile. </p>
<p>“I do, but why?” I murmured, crossing my arms now as I furrowed my brow, turning on my heel and strolling back the other direction. “Maybe because you’ve broken me. You took me down to nothing and built me up again with yourself.”</p>
<p>“I’ve brainwashed you with all my rules. I’ve told you over and over how weak you are, how you’re nothing without me.”</p>
<p>“And I’d go back to my home and destroy everything that reminded me of myself,” I added, turning to stare up at him as the pieces started falling into place, mind going to the trashed trailer. “I erased myself to become <i>you</i>, because that’s the only person I know how to be now.”</p>
<p>“It’s the only way you know to survive. The only way that you can hold onto me,” he concluded, and now the smile was a full grin. “You’ve got it. Tell me what Frost is doing.”</p>
<p>“He transformed himself into Goehring. He’s abducting women because that’s what Goehring would do, and in his mind that’s who he is now.”</p>
<p>“That’s what we’ve been missing,” Hotch confirmed. “We need to stop thinking like Frost, and start thinking like Goehring, because…” </p>
<p>“Because he’s still calling the shots. He’s still our UnSub.”</p>
<p>Hotch was practically beaming at me, genuine pride in his eyes as. He looked truly proud of me. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and jerked his head to where Rossi and JJ were just coming to meet us. “Go tell them what you figured out.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>With what Hotch and I walked through, it didn’t take Reid, Emily, Morgan, and Penelope long to piece together the rest of the missing puzzle. Goehring was surprisingly easier to profile, and in less than fifteen minutes we had the location of Frost’s endgame. </p>
<p>“My guy’s just got eyes on ‘im,” the Sheriff told us, jogging to catch up to Rossi, Hotch, and myself. “He’s on the very top of the peak on the far side of that ridge. He’ll see us comin.”</p>
<p>“He already knows we’re here if he’s using that police scanner,” Rossi sighed, glancing over as Emily and Morgan pulled up behind us. They were already looking up to the ridge, forming a game plan as they passed Hotch, Rossi, and I vests.</p>
<p>“We’ve gotta find a way to get up there,” Emily murmured, hands on her hips as she looked around. “Maybe we can try going around, coming up from behind?”</p>
<p>Morgan shook his head. “Nah, that’ll take time we don’t have, and we’ll never be able to get close enough to him. He’s hyper focused on us.”</p>
<p>“Um,” I spoke up as I finished strapping the vest on, nodding past the others when the turned to look at me in question. “Why is Harris Townsend here?”</p>
<p>Morgan whipped around, immediately on the defensive, and the Sheriff quickly said, </p>
<p>“Y’all told me you needed the best sharpshooter, an’ he’s it.”</p>
<p>“You gotta be kidding me,” Morgan and I sighed, sharing a disgruntled look. Townsend paused at Morgan’s side, eyeing him briefly before doing the same with me. With a subtle elbow to my side from Hotch, I reigned in the sass I knew I had on my face. </p>
<p>“He knows this valley better than any’a us,” the Sheriff explained. “He’s ex special forces –“</p>
<p>“He’s <i>militia</i>,” Morgan shot back. Townsend sniffed in dismissal of Morgan’s comment as he told him idly,</p>
<p>“You wanna try an’ take him out, be my guest. But you should know the wind in this valley will change the trajectory of a shot by inches. If you can’t read the wind the wrong person might get shot. ‘Course… I don’t need to remind y’all of <i>that</i>.”</p>
<p>“Harris –“ </p>
<p>“We can handle this,” Morgan quipped; Townsend snorted. </p>
<p>“Yeah. Good luck with that –“</p>
<p>“Hey. It might not come down to that if we don’t get moving,” Rossi interjected. “Look. I’ll go with Townsend and we’ll set up to be ready just in case.”</p>
<p>“Good. If you see the shot, call it,” Hotch ordered, and the two of them took off up the ridge. “Aria and I will go with the Sheriff. We’ll stay at the base and try to distract him. Morgan, Prentiss, head up northeast and be ready to save our hostage as soon as it’s clear. You’ll be Townsend’s backup. Keep your heads down, and talk with us on channel 23.”</p>
<p>Sharing a nod between our group, we all split up and I ran after my group, racing around to the Sheriff’s truck. As we pulled up to the base of the ridge, we could see Frost and the woman at the top, but they hadn’t spotted us yet. With a readying nod, Hotch took the megaphone the Sheriff held out and called, “<i>Francis Goehring! Channel two</i>!” </p>
<p>Hotch held out a pair of binoculars and one of the radios as he readied the other. “You’re my eyes, and you’ll talk with Rossi and Townsend.” Into the radio, he said, “we just want to talk. Let me know if you can hear me, Francis.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I can hear you!” he shouted, opting out of using the radio. He shifted and sat up, positioning the hostage in front of him and lifting his gun. </p>
<p>“He’s using her as a shield and he’s got a gun trained on you,” I said quickly as Frost shouted, </p>
<p>“This is my land, not yours! You understand? Not yours! And you will leave, or she dies!”</p>
<p>“Gun’s on her now,” I breathed, chest tightening as he pressed the barrel to the woman’s temple. On my own radio, Rossi told us, </p>
<p>“<i>No shot. We’ve gotta distract Frost. Get him away from the girl.</i>” </p>
<p>I glanced at Hotch, confirming he heard that, and he gave a nod. The Sheriff made a noise of frustration. “How the hell are we gonna get him to do this?”</p>
<p>Hotch was quiet for a moment, and then he turned to me. “He thinks he’s Goehring, and that means he won’t take well to being ordered by anyone he sees as beneath him.”</p>
<p>“He won’t take orders from a woman,” I elaborated, and Hotch gave a solemn nod as we traded radios and I handed him the binoculars. The Sheriff reached out and rested his hand on mine before I could lift it up. </p>
<p>“You sure this is a good idea?”</p>
<p>“He’s not Goehring. He can’t do this,” Hotch explained, and the Sheriff made a noise of disagreement. </p>
<p>“He shot Angela Miller in the back!”</p>
<p>“Yes, when he was more in control. He’s cornered, and he’s devolving. He’ll have to use all his focus to try and keep up Goehring’s persona when speaking with a woman. Just like at the gas station, he’ll slip up and make a mistake, and that’s what we need.”</p>
<p>Slowly, the Sheriff pulled his hand back, and Hotch nodded to me and I lifted the radio.</p>
<p>“Tell me what to do.”</p>
<p>“Stay behind the truck, don’t show yourself,” he instructed quickly. “Introduce yourself.”</p>
<p>Pushing out the thoughts in my mind – that I was speaking with a highly unstable man holding a gun to an innocent woman’s head – I took a breath and said, “Francis? My name’s Aria. I just want to talk.”</p>
<p>“I don’t talk with the scum of the earth, <i>whore</i>” he shouted back; the eye-roll was automatic.</p>
<p>Hotch nodded for me to keep going as he murmured, “tell him about himself.”</p>
<p>“I think you do, because you’re not really Francis,” I told him, tugging out my notebook and flipping to what I’d jotted down from Penelope and JJ earlier. “We know a lot about you, Henry.”</p>
<p>“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!”</p>
<p>“We know your name is Henry Frost. You’re twenty-five years old, and we know that your dad kicked you out of the house when you were fifteen. He was a drunk, and he abused and abandoned you. Ever since, your life has been a series of jails and institutions, and it’s been hell –“</p>
<p>“<i>Shut up</i>!” he hollered, voice breaking; I was getting through. “No! You don’t know me!” </p>
<p>Hotch reached over and took my notepad, scribbling out what to say and then nodding for me to keep going. “Henry, just please let her go. Let her go, and we’ll clear everyone out, and you and I can just talk. That’s a promise. It doesn’t have to end any differently –“</p>
<p>“<i>YES IT DOES</i>!” he cried; Hotch quickly nodded to press on. Just a little more… </p>
<p>“No, Henry. Listen to me,” I ordered, reading the last line Hotch had scribbled. “Put the gun down and let her go. That’s an order.”</p>
<p>“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” He screamed, and even without binoculars I saw him shove the woman aside as he leapt to his feet, gun leveling to the truck. Hotch grabbed my arm and dropped us behind the bed as a shot rang out. </p>
<p>It wasn’t Frost, though. The shot had come from the East, where Townsend and Rossi were. A moment later, Rossi confirmed, </p>
<p>“<i>He’s down. It’s over</i>.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Hotch settled into the seat beside me on the plane, holding out a piece of paper. Yawning and uncurling myself, I stretched and took it, reading it curiously. <i>COURSE COMPLETED</i> was printed across the top, and the details of my profiling class were outlined below, with Hotch’s signature on the bottom. </p>
<p>“What? You’re signing off?” I asked in surprise, looking between him and the paper. “I still had another month, and like fifty more field hours.”</p>
<p>“You showed me on this case you’re more than proficient with your profiling techniques,” he explained. “I don’t think you need to spend any more time in the introductory course. I’ll be putting in a request to have you moved to the advanced classes so we can get you fully certified sooner.”</p>
<p>Excitement bubbled through me and I turned to face him, grin blossoming on my face. “You’re joking, right?”</p>
<p>“I don’t joke,” he deadpanned; Rossi snorted from behind us. “Your work today with Frost, both with speaking to him and with profiling his motives, makes it clear how well you’re taking to the material. I’m very impressed with how you performed.”</p>
<p>“Wow, Hotch,” I said slowly, my gaze going back to the paper. “This is… thank you. Really.”</p>
<p>After my doubts early on – hell, the doubts I had every day I walked into the bullpen – hearing Hotch’s support and praise made me feel… <i>capable</i>. Even though I didn’t fully see how far I’d come, having him pass me early on a course I thought I was struggling in showed me I really <i>was</i> doing better than I thought. It showed me I was making progress, even if I didn’t see it fully myself. </p>
<p>As he gave my shoulder another squeeze, going to get up, I said quickly, “Oh, wait. Before I forget.”</p>
<p>I tugged out my go-bag from under the seat and fished around for the holster and his pistol. As I held them up to him, though, he pushed my hands down and shook his head. </p>
<p>“You keep them. You’ve earned them.”</p>
<p>“But this is your gun,” I argued, trying to hand it to him again. With the hint of a smile on his lips, he pushed them all the way down into my lap. </p>
<p>“And I’m giving it to you.” After a pause, the smile curled up a little more and he added, “it’s much more effective than a fluffy, pink throw pillow.”</p>
<p>Morgan, who definitely <i>wasn’t</i> asleep like I thought, gave a bark of laughter as I dropped my head back against the chair. </p>
<p>“It was just a reflex! He surprised me!” </p>
<p>“Alright, then those reflexes need work,” Morgan countered, pushing one headphone off his ear as he turned to me. Before I could argue, Emily added, </p>
<p>“It’s better than jumping every time someone shows up behind you.”</p>
<p>“Okay, you know what? If all of you didn’t try to give me a heart attack every other day, I wouldn’t <i>need</i> better reflexes. What kind of weirdos just burst into rooms and start shouting?!”</p>
<p>“What kind of a weirdos fight-or-flight response is to <i>squeak</i>?” Morgan laughed. Hotch bit back a snort as he made his way to the back of the jet, coffee cup in hand to avoid the inevitable argument breaking out. </p>
<p>“Actually,” Reid piped up, poking his head out from behind his book and sitting up on the couch. “It’s a common misconception that the only primal drives are fight-or-flight. You see, it’s a reaction that stems from the visceral impulses of the hypothalamus. It’s often said that the hypothalamus is responsible for <i>four</i> f’s instead of just those two: fighting, fleeing, feeding, and fornication –“</p>
<p>“What do fluffy throw pillows fall under?” JJ asked, giving me a cheeky grin when I narrowed my eyes at her. Morgan gave a wicked grin. </p>
<p>“Well, I guess that could be counted under fornication, if you catch my –“</p>
<p>“<i>No</i>,” I cut in immediately, face erupting in a blush. “I’m not counting anything you say from here on out. Your opinions are shunned for the rest of the trip. You can all stop ganging up on me now.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, sunshine, you’re alone in this and you’re outnumbered,” Morgan countered, and instantly I pointed to the doctor on my right. </p>
<p>“Nu-uh. Reid’s on my side. Aren’t you?” I asked, and he gave me a wide smile as he nodded eagerly. Morgan scoffed and Reid said simply, </p>
<p>“That’s what friends are for.”</p>
<p>The two of us grinned at one another as the others kept arguing between themselves. They could keep going while Reid and I got lost for a moment in our own secret world. </p>
<p>It was my favorite place to be. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <span class="u">Spencer</span>
  </b>
</p>
<p>It really shouldn’t have been so hard to ask a simple question. Spencer knew he was being ridiculous, but the words just wouldn’t leave him. Twice he tried to speak up as Aria gathered her things. </p>
<p>She was leaving them for a week to focus on her finals, and if he could just get the courage to ask her, maybe the next nine days wouldn’t seem so long. He just… didn’t know how to say them. It wasn’t often he was lost for words. </p>
<p>He easily knew more words than anyone on the team – arguably, more than anyone at Quantico – and he knew better than most how to string them along into coherent, impressive sentences. When it came to Aria, though, everything left him. The words he’d pieced together scattered apart and he had to scramble to put them back together. It was just one little question. He’d been repeating those five words over and over on the plane. </p>
<p><i>Would you like help studying</i>?</p>
<p>So far, all he’d managed to do was open and close his mouth about half a dozen times. And when he finally had the words all together on the tip of his tongue, she looked up at him and everything was gone. </p>
<p>“When I get back, I expect another magic trick,” she teased, slinging her bag up onto her shoulder as she came around to lean against his desk. For several moments he was lost in the hazel of her eyes. Here, in the dull florescent lights, they were a soft chocolate. They’d lit up into a stunning shade of amber as she’d watched the magic trick that morning. Sometimes, when the light hit them just right, they were dappled shades of green and gold that pulled him in and shut down everything else inside him. </p>
<p>“I – yeah,” he managed, realizing he’d been quiet a little too long. Aria never minded, though. The warm smile she kept on him never wavered, never made him feel pressured or awkward. “I can show you a couple –“</p>
<p>“Nerd alert,” Morgan coughed from his desk. Aria whirled so fast it made Spencer jump. </p>
<p>“Derek, I wasn’t kidding! Leave him alone,” she snapped, the tone of her voice as sharp as it had been at the trailer park the other day. The absolute happiness that surged through him at her defense left him melting in his seat, ducking his head to hide his smile. He was used to people teasing him, but to have someone standing up for him like she did… it was something new, and he definitely liked it. </p>
<p>“Ay, okay,” Morgan said quickly, holding his hands up in fake surrender. “You got finals to study for. Don’t go busyin’ yourself with murder too.”</p>
<p>“Then don’t give me a reason to murder you,” she said coolly, eyeing him sharply before turning back to Spencer. Like she always seemed to do, she could see through the smile and see the sting that Morgan’s teasing had left. Her gaze softened a hint and again she offered a smile that left his mind spinning. “I mean it. I want magic tricks. Okay?”</p>
<p> “Okay,” was all he managed, but it was enough for her. With a nod, she stood up and tapped his desk as she backed away. This was his chance to ask her. He could do this. “If, um, if you need help –“</p>
<p>“Ready to go?” Garcia asked, bustling up to Aria’s side. Spencer almost groaned in frustration; the moment was gone. Aria gave a quick nod, following her friend as she turned to smile back at him. </p>
<p>“I’ll see you next week, Reid,” she called to him, giving a small wave. “<i>Buona notte</i>!”</p>
<p>“<i>Spokoynoy nochi</i>,” he replied with a returning wave. Normally their routine <i>good night</i>’s left him smiling, but after blowing his chance, all he could do was slump down into his seat, propping his chin in his hand as he looked down at the files on his desk. </p>
<p>“Hey. You know I’m just messin’ with you about the magic thing, right?”</p>
<p>Spencer blinked, taking a second to filter in what Morgan had said. “Oh. Yeah, yeah I know. It’s okay.”</p>
<p>A few moments later, a shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see Morgan studying him curiously. Profiling him. Spencer’s brows drew into a mildly concerned frown, feeling oddly like prey being stalked as he watched him get up from his chair and make his way towards him. </p>
<p>“What?” he asked warily as Morgan settled onto the corner of his desk. A slowly smile came to his face as he asked slyly, </p>
<p>“So… when are you plannin’ on askin’ Aria out?”</p>
<p>Spencer blanched, and though Morgan was one of his closest friends, it was instinct to hide his feelings for Aria. Instinct to protect his crush from being made fun of. </p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’re –“</p>
<p>“Save it,” Morgan cut in, shaking his head. “C’mon. I know you, and I’ve seen the way you are around her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile as much as you just did in the last ten minutes alone.”</p>
<p>Spencer pointedly said nothing, eyes falling back to lock onto the papers. Morgan nudged his arm, but he still didn’t look up. “Hey, I’m not makin’ fun of you for it. She’s pretty, man. I get why you like her.”</p>
<p>His assumption settled uncomfortably on Spencer’s shoulders, and despite his own wishes he had to correct him. “It’s not like that.”</p>
<p>“Like what?” Morgan prompted, and Spencer sighed, looking up at his friend. It was a rare time to see genuine interest in his eyes, to see him eagerly waiting what he had to say. He didn’t trust Morgan not to tease him for it, but… he needed help. He’d thought about going to JJ for advice, but this was Morgan’s specialty. Talking to beautiful girls came naturally to him and maybe he could help Spencer figure out how to say a coherent sentence around Aria for once. </p>
<p>“I… it’s not that she’s pretty. I mean, she is,” he added quickly, and felt his cheeks heating up as he said those words. It was the first time he’d ever said that out loud. “But it’s not <i>just</i> that. It’s… so much more with her.”</p>
<p>“Tell me why, then. What’s this girl done to captivate you?” Morgan asked. “Not even JJ got you this flustered. Why’s Aria special that you can’t even manage to ask her out?”</p>
<p>Spencer felt himself flush hearing Morgan mention his feelings for JJ. The crush felt like it’d been years ago, and thinking back on it – even to the crush he’d had on Lila Archer – Morgan was right. He hadn’t felt this enamored with <i>anyone</i>.</p>
<p>“I just… I get so nervous when I talk to her. I’m so afraid to say the wrong thing because every time I talk, I’m afraid it’ll end up being too much for her. When I go off on a rant, or I tell her one of my weird hobbies, or I just act like my usual awkward self, I’m waiting for her to give me the look that everyone else does.”</p>
<p>“What look, kid?” Morgan pressed softly, and when Spencer didn’t answer, his friend reached out and nudged his leg gently. </p>
<p>“That look that tells me I’m too much for them,” he said so quietly he almost didn’t hear <i>himself</i>. His eyes fell to his lap as he fidgeted with his watch band. “When they realize I’m an annoying know-it-all freak and they don’t actually want to put up with me because I’m more obnoxious than I’m worth.”</p>
<p>Morgan didn’t answer at first, shifting to get closer to him, offering as much comfort as he could without treading on his personal space. “Hey. You know I don’t see you that way, right Reid? None of us do.”</p>
<p>“No I – I know,” he manage, giving a quick smile as he shrugged his shoulders. He wouldn’t tell Morgan he’d seen that look from each one of them. He knew it wasn’t intentional and he didn’t want to make his friend feel guilty; not with all Morgan did to support him. “It’s just… it happens. When I act like myself around someone for too long, they can’t handle me. I have to always hold myself back, make sure I don’t overwhelm them or do something to push them further away from me.”</p>
<p>“And with Aria, you don’t have to.”</p>
<p>The smile that took over Spencer’s face was genuine. He shook his head as he finally admitted, “No. Never. Even the few times I’ve tried to water myself down, she doesn’t let me. She – she encourages me to be myself. She <i>listens</i>. She smiles at me when I talk because she actually cares what I have to say, and she’ll ask questions to get me to tell her more. I’ve never had that with anyone but my mom. And I – I don’t want to lose it with Aria. I don’t want to see her get sick of me and pull away because I’m more than she bargained for.”</p>
<p>“Kid, look,” Morgan said softly, squeezing his shoulder to get him to look up at him. “It’s been four months and I can guarantee you that at this point, there’s not a part of you she’s gonna see that’ll scare her away. Seriously. If the girl willingly talks to you about the classification of <i>almonds</i>, I think it’s safe to say she isn’t put off by your giant brain.”</p>
<p>Spencer gave him a small smile. “You really think so?”</p>
<p>Morgan snorted as he stood and reached up, ruffling his hair as he backed for his own desk. </p>
<p>“Reid, trust me. With the way that girl looks at you… you don’t have anythin’ to worry about.”</p>
<p>His brows lifted to his hairline and Morgan let out a laugh as he grabbed his go bag, shaking his head. Spencer quickly scrambled to collect his things as Morgan started for the elevator. </p>
<p>“What? How – how does she look at – Morgan, wait!”</p>
<p>“Hurry up, <i>lover boy</i>,” he taunted. Spencer nearly tripped over himself as he gathered his satchel and jacket to his chest, racing after his friend. </p>
<p>“How does she look at me?” he asked eagerly. Morgan snickered to himself, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he shrugged. </p>
<p>“What, you’re tellin’ me your 187 IQ hasn’t noticed?”</p>
<p>“No!” he argued, voice jumping up an octave. “If I had, why would I be asking?”</p>
<p>“You mean to tell me I know something our resident genius <i>doesn’t</i>?” </p>
<p>Spencer bit back a sigh of frustration, scowling at his friend as they stepped onto the elevator. Not ten minutes and he was already missing Aria and her abilities to handle Morgan’s attitude. </p>
<p>It was going to be a long nine days.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What did you think of Spencer and Morgan's talk? How did Aria handle the case? Should face-punching be allowed in the FBI?</p>
<p>I hope you liked the chapter! This was a fun one to write (sorry, it got a little long and I have no self control...) and I hope you like where the story is going! It would mean so much to me if you could take a few moments to let me know what you think! I appreciate each and every one of you reading this! </p>
<p>Happy Monday, have a beautiful week! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Nine Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/624178192211738624/chapter-18-is-up">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bringing food into the bullpen was a dangerous and risky maneuver. </p><p>It was like the team had a sixth sense for snacks. The moment I stepped through the glass doors, four heads popped up and swiveled to look at me. There was a moment of still, tense silence, and then Morgan sprang from his chair and bolted towards me. </p><p>With a squeak, I tossed the box of muffins onto the table just seconds before Morgan reached the break area. He swarmed the table, Emily right behind him, both descending upon my offering like locusts on a crop. </p><p>“You brought us <i>muffins</i>?” Morgan mumbled, already two bites in, spraying crumbs everywhere. Emily scowled at him as she pointedly brushed a few off her arm. </p><p>“I did,” I grinned, pleased at their excitement. “I figured this would make up for a week without coffee.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Em sighed, leaning a hip against the table as she gave Morgan a pointed look. “We had to put up with <i>someone</i> on the team suffering through making their own drink for five days.”</p><p>I rested a hand over my heart, giving her the most sympathetic shake of my head I could muster. “I am <i>so</i> sorry. I can’t begin to imagine how annoying and unbearable he – I mean <i>that</i> – must’ve been to deal with.”</p><p>Morgan glared at me over his muffin, looking ready to argue. </p><p>“There she is!” JJ greeted, cutting in before he could get going. She slipped past the other two, arms held open, beckoning me to her. With a grin I rushed forward, wrapping my arms tight around her and melting into her hold. “Congratulations on passing all your finals!”</p><p>Surprised, I tipped my head up to give her a quizzical look as we stepped back. “How did you know already? My grades <i>just</i> posted –“ JJ gave me a smirk and I chuckled, shaking my head. Of <i>course</i> my best friend had meddled. “I’m surprised Penelope didn’t find out sooner.”</p><p>“It wasn’t for her lack of trying,” Emily promised as she roped me into her own hug, squeezing me tight and rocking me back and forth. “I’m just glad they’re over with. We missed having you around.”</p><p>“Yeah, no one’s as fun to pick on as you are,” Morgan assured, elbowing Emily aside to hug me instead. On cue, he reached up and started to mess with my hair. Giving a huff of indignation, I ducked out of his hold and swatted his hand down. </p><p>“I brought food! Doesn’t that buy me some immunity from your annoyingness?” Morgan reached for my hair again and I groaned. “Alright. That’s it. I’m asking for another week off.”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” JJ argued as Emily shook her head. The two of them shared a smirk and turned to Morgan so suddenly he took a step back. “We’ll handle him for you.”</p><p>“Ay, okay, this definitely ain’t fair –“ he started, backing away from the table as the two of them advanced. Before I could jump in on the harassment, though, I felt someone come up beside me.</p><p>Seeing Reid for the first time in nine days sent the butterflies in my chest rushing out full-force. I thought I’d be prepared – even thinking my crush might’ve eased up a bit - but clearly I’d forgotten just how damn attractive the man was. The smile on my face was instinctive and <i>just</i> this side of giddy; to say I’d missed him would be an understatement.</p><p>“Welcome back,” he said, giving a warm smile that made his soft eyes crinkle at the edges. Normally they were a soft brown but today they were lighter… caramel? Honey with a hint of mocha? <i>Okay. Reign it in</i>. I didn’t need to be staring at him awkwardly before 8am... well, more than I already had been. “Garcia said you passed. Did you do alright on your Chemistry final?”</p><p>I groaned, getting a chuckle out of Reid as I ran a hand down my face. “I wouldn’t say I did <i>alright</i>, but I scraped by thanks to that study session you did with me.”</p><p>Reid had been a lifesaver, giving up his Thursday evening to help me cram last-minute. Sure, I could’ve Googled what I’d needed… but to be honest, I’d been looking for an excuse to call him. At first I’d felt bad taking up his night, but he actually sounded like he was enjoying himself. His passion for teaching what he knew was evident, and we’d both seemed to have a good time. I had no idea how he’d made learning all that stuff enjoyable, but he’d been the most fun <i>and</i> entertaining Chemistry teacher I’d had in four years.</p><p>“I doubt it was me,” he dismissed with a shake of his head. “You knew almost all of what we went over. You just needed help bridging a few gaps.”</p><p>“You can’t play modest with me, Dr. Reid. I know exactly how brilliant you are,” I teased, enjoying the flush on his cheeks at my compliment. Over his shoulder, I caught sight of Hotch coming back from Penelope’s lair, heading towards his office. “I’ve gotta talk to Hotch, but here. Before I forget.”</p><p>Reid watched me curiously as I pulled out a small from my purse and held it out to him. He took it eagerly and peeked inside; the smile on his face took my breath away. His eyes – maybe more sienna in this light… possibly russet? – flicked up to mine and I saw genuine appreciation in his gaze. </p><p>“You got me my own muffin?”</p><p>I hadn’t expected him to be this touched, and now a blush crept onto <i>my</i> cheeks. I gave a quick nod, busying myself with grabbing a muffin out of the box Morgan, Emily, <i>and</i> JJ now were picking through. “Yeah. I mean, I wanted to bring in breakfast and I know you don’t like group food, so I got that one separate. It – um, it’s poppyseed. I hope that’s okay. It’s my favorite, so I just thought maybe you’d –“</p><p>“Poppyseed’s my favorite too,” he told me as he eagerly pulled it out. It was a little dumb getting so excited over something as little as liking the same flavor of muffin, but it still warmed me through. </p><p>We’d been doing that a lot lately, finding small things we had in common, and with each one I melted just a little more for him. “Good! Maybe I <i>am</i> a profiler after all. I’m gonna go tell Hotch I don’t need to take my classes anymore.”</p><p>Reid gave a laugh, shaking his head at me as I gave him a quick wink, scampering across the bullpen. Rossi, just coming out of his office, caught my eye and opened his arms, grin on his face. </p><p>“<i>Eccola</i>!” he called as I crossed to him, laughing as he pulled me into a hug. We leaned back and he held me at arm’s length. “Penelope gave us the good news. Congratulations!”</p><p>“<i>Grazie</i>,” I laughed, beaming up at him. “How were things while I was gone?”</p><p>Rossi’s eyes flicked towards the break area. JJ had just grabbed a muffin, and Morgan plucked it out of her hands almost instantly. Emily backhanded him the chest, took the muffin, and instead of giving it to JJ, she took a bite out of it. A round of angry <i>HEY</i>’s rose up and both Morgan and JJ went to take it back. </p><p>“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he said dryly, heaving a sigh. I laughed and backed for Hotch’s office, nodding my head towards the pack of wild animals. </p><p>“I’m pretty sure they’ve left a few, if you’re willing to brave the hunting grounds,” I teased. Rossi scoffed and instantly turned for his office. </p><p>“I’d like to keep all my fingers today, if possible. Muffins aren’t worth blood loss.” </p><p>“Huh,” I mused, and he glanced back at me with a brow raised. “I feel like we can make that into the new BAU motto.”</p><p>Rossi gave me a wry grin. “I’ll talk to Strauss, see if we can set some team shirts to wear out on cases with that on the back.”</p><p>The two of us snorted and Rossi gave me a two-fingered salute before ducking into the safety of his office. </p><p>Hotch looked up as I gave a few knocks, and one of his rare grins came across his face. He beckoned me in and stood up, coming around the desk to pull me into a hug. Seriously, I hadn’t really known how much I’d missed the team until this morning. Hotch and I stepped back, and I held up the muffin. “I came bearing gifts.”</p><p>Hotch <i>ah</i>’d as he took my offering, glancing out the window of his office to watch the rest of the team. “That certainly explains a lot.”</p><p>“I wanted to thank you again for giving me the week off from, well, <i>everything</i>,” I chuckled, giving him a grateful smile. “It really took a lot of stress off me.”</p><p>“Your education is more important than profiling right now,” he assured me. “We’ll pick up your classes again once your winter break to let you get caught up. When do you start up again?”</p><p>“January 7th, so I’ve got a couple weeks to focus here completely.” With a small smile, almost on a whim, I added excitedly, “it’s my last semester. I graduate in May.”</p><p>Genuine pride took over his face as he sat his muffin aside to pay me full attention. “That’s great. It’s taken a lot of hard work to get where you are. The last few months can be difficult, but we’ll all support you through it.”</p><p><i>This is what it’d probably feel like if my dad supported me,</i> I thought before I could stop myself, and there I went getting all choked up. I couldn’t ever leave the team this long again. Nine days away and I’d lost my desensitization to the genuine care they all had for me. First I’d totally melted with Reid, now I was on the verge of <i>teary-eyed</i> with Hotch…</p><p>Wordlessly I shuffled forward and pulled him into another hug, mumbling into his crisp suit jacket, “thank you. I really appreciate that.”</p><p>“Of course, Aria. We’re always here for you,” he promised, giving another squeeze before I pulled away. Lord, if he didn’t stop… thankfully, Hotch wasn’t one to linger on touchy-feely for longer than a few sentences. “This should be an easy day back. We haven’t started a new case yet, so I wanted to use this day to catch up on reports. If you get the time, you can also start working on catching up with the advanced profiling classes. I’ve left what you missed on your desk.”</p><p>Man, after finals, I was <i>down</i> for a mindless day of paperwork. Hotch settled back behind his desk as I gave him a two-finger salute and said, “Aye aye, Captain Hotch.”</p><p>He gave me a small shake of his head, fighting the smile on his face as I scurried back out into the bullpen. Morgan, Emily, and JJ had finally dispersed back to their own desks, though Emily and Morgan were still bickering over the wall that divided theirs. At my own desk, I was surprised to see not only my work for profiling classes, but half of a poppyseed muffin. </p><p>“It was a big muffin and I thought you’d be hungry too. I - I used a knife to cut it in half,” Reid explained as soon as I lifted the muffin. “So it’s – I didn’t take a bite of it. I know you’re not as bothered by shared food as I am, but… I mean, if you wanted to eat it, that is.”</p><p>I couldn’t get over how shy he was. I’d like to think it was <i>me</i> making him this flustered, but I knew he had a hard time opening up to others and making friendly gestures like this. It still made my heart skip a couple beats as I smiled down at him, fighting the blush off my cheeks. </p><p>Was it weird I wanted to hug the muffin to my chest?... Yeah, okay, maybe a little. Instead of being super awkward, I took a bite of it as an answer to his rambling. Muffins weren’t ideal for me to eat – my blood sugar wouldn’t be happy pretty soon – but <i>I</i> was, and it was worth the sacrifice to see Reid’s face light up like it did. </p><p>“You’re too nice to me,” I told him, settling at my desk as I started to dig into my own pile of unfinished reports. “In fact, I think –“</p><p>“<i>OHMYGOSH you’re back</i>!” Penelope cried, practically sprinting from the door beside the conference room, arms up in excitement as she rushed for me. Quickly setting my muffin out of harm’s way, I raised my own arms and let my best friend pull me into a bone-crushing hug. “I cannot <i>believe</i> I wasn’t your first stop!”</p><p>She thankfully gave me a little leeway to breathe, and I managed to get out, “you <i>were</i>, but someone wasn’t in her BatCave.”</p><p>Penelope huffed, letting go at me to step back and plant her hands on her hips. “I was! I’ve been there the whole morning!...” she trailed off at the end and frowned just a hint. “… I mean, not just <i>now</i>, ‘cause I was dropping some things off downstairs…”</p><p>“Uh <i>huh</i>,” I said pointedly, giving her a playful smirk as I grabbed my muffin again. She scoffed and countered, </p><p>“I’m still offended – is that a muffin?” </p><p>With a snort, I nodded and pointed to the break area. “I brought them in for everyone. I was <i>gonna</i> give you first pick, but with you <i>not in your room</i>…”</p><p>Penelope wasn’t looking at me anymore. She was staring in surprise across my desk, and I followed her gaze to Reid. Feeling our eyes on him, he peeked up from reading and blinked warily at us as he asked slowly,</p><p>“Is something wrong?”</p><p>“You’re eating a muffin,” she started, a wicked grin slowly taking over her face as her eyes widened just a hint. I nearly choked on the bite I’d just taken, realizing she was about to tease Reid for making exceptions for me. Normally I’d like to see his reaction, but Penelope was as subtle as a brick through the window.</p><p>“I am,” Reid began, and instantly my best friend giggled, </p><p>“But you <i>never</i> eat group food. You wouldn’t even take a slice of pizza last week and now –“</p><p>“I brought him his own,” I said quickly just as I saw Reid start to blanche under her questioning. My goal had been to derail the interrogation, but it only seemed to fuel her meddlesome fire. </p><p>“Oh you <i>did</i>?” she mused, and then her eyes flicked to the muffin in my hand. Then to Reid’s, then back to me. She’d connected the dots. “<i>Oho</i>, you’re <i>sharing</i> the special muffin –“</p><p>“Hey, Garcia? I’ve got a question for you on these cases you brought me,” JJ called out as she leaned from her office. Pen cut off, but her devious grin didn’t waiver. She opened her mouth to say more and I jammed my finger towards JJ. </p><p>“You’ve been summoned.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I have so many –“</p><p>“Go.”</p><p>“But <i>Aria</i>, I wanted to ask –“</p><p>“<i>Go</i> Penelope,” I ground out, glaring at my best friend and just about ready to go drag her off myself. Though she glanced and Reid and giggled again, she thankfully started around my desk, making her way to JJ’s office. </p><p>“I’ll be talking to you later,” she informed me, giving a wink over his head. My cheeks somehow got even hotter. I didn’t even mumble a reply as she finally left, and only after I heard JJ’s door shut did I risk glancing up. </p><p>Thankfully, Reid didn’t seem upset with Penelope’s teasing. I’d worried she’d made him uncomfortable about the food situation, but instead he was skimming his files again, muffin in hand, smile still on his face.  </p><p>--</p><p>“How the hell are you done already?!” Morgan scoffed, watching me incredulously as I sat the last finished folder aside. Emily and I shared a look over his head as we rolled our eyes simultaneously.</p><p>“You know, I’m not positive, but I’d say it has something to do with the fact she was actually working this whole time,” Emily threw out, glaring at Morgan as he incessantly tapped his pen against his coffee cup. </p><p>“Instead of, y’know, trying to distract everyone else,” I added, and he turned to glare at me indignantly. </p><p>“What? I wasn’t –“</p><p>“Are you kidding me?” Emily huffed, smacking her hand to her desk and startling Morgan, finally putting a stop to the tapping. “You made a lasso out of paper clips and spent twenty minutes trying to wrangle my pen.”</p><p>“Oh come <i>on</i>, that wasn’t me distracting you –”</p><p>“What was it, then?” Emily challenged as I stood and scooped my files up.</p><p>“A waste of time and effort,” Reid mumbled idly, still hunched over his desk trying to focus, just as fed up as we were. Morgan glared at him, grabbed a rubber band, and aiming it at his head. </p><p>Emily smacked his arm down and as I passed by, I snatched it out of his hand, tossing it to her as I snapped, “how many times do I have to tell you to be nice to him?”</p><p>“Oh quit smirkin’,” Morgan laughed, and when I went to answer him, I saw he wasn’t even looking at me. He was looking at Reid. “You’re just lucky your little guard-gremlin is back to take your side.”</p><p>Reid went to say something back until he saw I was watching him too. He quickly shut his mouth and dropped his head back to the paperwork, cheeks tinting pink. Morgan and Emily, bickering forgotten instantly, grinned at one another before turning to me. Somehow, they were even <i>less</i> subtle than Penelope.</p><p>Which meant that was my cue to leave before they could even start in on me. I booked it across the bullpen and practically dove into JJ’s office. She glanced up from her work, and when she saw what I had she eagerly held out her hand for my folders. “Thank god. Strauss was just asking for these. You’re a life saver.” </p><p>“Glad I can help,” I laughed, passing them over as I studied her swamped desk. “You look crazy busy.”</p><p>“I am,” she sighed, slumping back in her chair as she studied the mess in front of her. “Gideon leaving dumped a bunch of extra work on Hotch, so I’ve been trying to help him navigate the cases. Basically, now I’m finding cases for us and <i>then</i> compiling the ones we’ve closed for Hotch to report to Strauss…”</p><p>“Can I help?” I asked her instantly, perking up a bit. JJ’s brows raised as she stared up at me doubtfully. </p><p>“You <i>want</i> to deal with this chaos?” </p><p>Settling into the seat across from her, I shrugged and admitted, “Not particularly. But I can tell how stressed you are.”</p><p>She sat up a bit but I could still see the hesitation in her eyes. “I really don’t want to throw all this at you –“</p><p>“You’re keeping me from killing Morgan, which would inevitably just add to your workload. Plus, I get to hang out with you. It’s a win-win.”</p><p>With a grin, JJ shrugged and said, “Well, if you’re sure. Here, honestly if you could just help me put a couple of these together you’ll help me leave at a normal time tonight.”</p><p>It was easy, talking and joking with JJ. She wasn’t as vivacious as Penelope or as outspoken and bold as Emily. She was a calm and steady warmth compared to the chaos around her; a peaceful comfort I was really starting to savor. With her, doing the stacks of files was easy and in just an hour we’d already cleared a corner of her desk off. </p><p>“So, you’re coming to girl’s night this weekend, right?” JJ asked as I stood and stretched. She was off to deliver our finished files to Strauss and I’d figured it was high time I got back and actually put a little effort into doing the things I was supposed to do. </p><p>“Of course! If you guys don’t mind me joining in,” I added, hesitancy bubbling up in my chest. “I don’t really drink.”</p><p>JJ laughed and nudged my arm with hers as she came around the desk. “We don’t mind at all. It’s you that’ll have to put up with us. I can’t guarantee we’ll be sober by the end of the night, but we’ll be entertaining.”</p><p>“That’s all I ask for,” I teased her, stepping out of her office to head for my desk. Before I turned, though, she caught my elbow and stepped closer to me with a gentle smile. </p><p>“You know, that was really nice, what you did for Spence.” When my brows lifted in question, she explained quickly, “I mean, it’s just a small gesture, but he always feels left out when it comes to food. I’m sure it made his day having something for him too.”</p><p>My heart skipped a beat at the thought of brightening Reid’s day that much. With a shy shrug, I smiled and said, “I know the feeling, and it sucks watching everyone else enjoy something when you can’t. He included me on Halloween, so I wanted him to feel the same way I did.”</p><p>“That’s really sweet. Thank you. He’s my best friend and I like knowing someone else is looking out for him too. Unlike…” she stifled a sigh as she glanced over my shoulder. I turned just in time to see a rubber band smack into Reid’s pencil cup, knocking it over and sending the contents all over his desk. </p><p>“<i>Morgan</i>!” I snarled; the bald, bushy-browed culprit froze as he went to shoot another one. Emily capitalized on his hesitation and she snatched the band away, shooting it at Morgan’s face instead. He yelped and clutched his cheek, staring at her incredulously. </p><p>“I didn’t hit <i>him</i> with it!” </p><p>“Trust me, that’s nothing compared to what I’m gonna do to you if I catch you harassing him again,” I threatened, stalking down the walkway. Morgan made a noise of protest, turning in his seat to look up at Hotch as he passed. Our boss wisely didn’t even lift his eyes from the papers he was flipping through. </p><p>“Hotch! She just threatened me!” he complained. As I passed him on the ramp, Hotch peeked up and gave a swift wink as he told Morgan, </p><p>“Good. Maybe it’ll help you focus on your paperwork.”</p><p>Emily and I <i>ooh</i>’d as Morgan threw his hands up, though he finally turned back to his task at hand. Before doing the same, I came up to Reid’s desk. He’d just righted the overturned cup, and I reached out to scoop the pencils for him.</p><p>“Thanks,” he told me, those warm – were they chestnut? – eyes sending my heart skittering in my chest. I tapped my nails on his desk as I backed to my own, smiling at him in return. Yeah, I’d definitely missed this. </p><p>--</p><p>The only thing worse than Morgan procrastinating was Morgan with nothing to do.</p><p>How he’d finished all his reports, I’d never know, but now he was free to roam the bullpen and pester all of us as he pleased. I should’ve been ready for it, I really should’ve. He’d been quiet, and I’d been unbothered for way too long with him on the loose, but I’d let my guard down. </p><p>I’d just tucked my insulin back in the fridge – I was right, that muffin <i>hadn’t</i> been a good idea – and turned to head back to my desk. I took exactly one step before Morgan materialized in front of me. </p><p>“<i>Whatcha doin’</i>?” he quipped as I barely muffled a shriek, jumping back into the counter. On instinct I grabbed the closest thing to me and lashed out at him. The handful of napkins fluttered harmlessly to the ground and set him off in a fit of laughter. </p><p>“Okay, shut up,” I muttered, scooping them up and pointedly shoving them into his arms as I stalked past him. “I wasn’t ready –“</p><p>“First a pillow, now <i>napkins</i>,” he cackled, following me to my desk. “What’s next, you got some marshmallows you wanna toss my way? You do know you have a gun now, right?”</p><p>“What, did you want me go for that instead?” I asked incredulously as I flopped into my chair. </p><p>“Yes,” Emily muttered. Morgan made a noise of alarm I shared a frown with her past his arm.</p><p>“Wanna help me plot his murder?”</p><p>“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already. You just say the word,” she promised, eyeing him dangerously before she looked back down to try and focus. “We’re profilers. We work for the FBI. We can easily make it look like an accident –“</p><p>“Ay, okay,” Morgan cut in, leaning against my desk. I pointedly nudged him back off the profiling workbook I needed to be doing. “I’m just sayin’, you could use some self-defense lessons.”</p><p>“A fair point, and I’m definitely open to learning,” I began, and he stood like he was ready to jump into it right here and now. “<i>Not</i> at this exact moment, though. I have things I need to do.”</p><p>Morgan crossed his arms, frowning down at me. “What’s more important than learning to protect yourself? What’ll you do when someone comes after you and you don’t have a throw pillow handy?”</p><p>Rolling my eyes up to him as I settled into my seat, I pointed out, “y’know, you could just stop tormenting me and this would be a moot point.”</p><p>“I’m not the only one you need defense against,” he argued, coming closer to me. “Other people are gonna come at you, and you’ll need to be ready.”</p><p>“I mean, so far the only one jumping me is <i>you</i> –“</p><p>“And you can’t even counter me,” he pointed out. “You need me to teach you.”</p><p>Kicking one leg over the other, I cracked open the book and pointedly clicked my pen, dropping my eyes to try and actually be productive. “I’m good for right now, thanks.”</p><p>To prove his point, Morgan’s hand shot out and caught my wrist firmly, but not hard enough to hurt. He tugged my arm up and made me drop my pen into my lap; I let out a huff of annoyance. </p><p>“Morgan, I need to get caught up –“</p><p>“Alright, so get out of the hold,” he challenged. When I gave him a scowl he told me, “I’m not lettin’ go unless you make me.”</p><p>Glaring at him for another several moments, I finally relented and shook my arm to try and break his hold. To no one’s surprise, his hand didn’t budge. I gave a couple of hard tugs and all he did was adjust his grip to hold me better. </p><p>“<i>Morgan</i>,” I groaned, slumping back in my chair again. “Just because <i>you’re</i> bored doesn’t mean you need to bother <i>me</i> –“</p><p>“That’s exactly what it means,” he argued back. Keeping his hold on my wrist, he reached up and pulled the bobby pin out of my hair. I swatted him off me and he swatted me back. “Now come on, sunshine. You’re in danger and you gotta get your arm free. What d’you do?”</p><p>An idea coming to mind, I turned and looked over at Reid. He was engrossed in a file, finger skimming over the pages he flipped through as he mouthed the words to himself. There was no time to get caught up in how adorable he looked; I needed help. </p><p>“Reid?” I whined, <i>just</i> this side of pathetic. Instantly his head snapped up, and warmth blossomed through me seeing the gentle concern he had at my tone. Though he looked at me at first, his gaze shifted to Morgan holding my arm. When he looked back in question, I gave him puppy dog eyes. “Morgan’s being a bully.”</p><p>Reid pressed his lips together, frowning up at Morgan. “Quit being counterproductive. This is why we’re always so backed up on our reports.”</p><p>“This is more fun,” Morgan taunted, not even looking at Reid as he reached out to muss my hair even more. I sank into the seat, batting at him with my free hand as I tried to avoid his touch.</p><p> </p><p>Wordlessly, Reid sat his file aside and reached over to grab his arm. Morgan didn’t even notice, too preoccupied in bothering me, allowing for Reid to snag <i>his</i> wrist and give a sharp twist. As soon as the hold was broken, I snatched my papers and scurried out from in front of Morgan, pulling my chair with me around to Reid’s desk. </p><p>“Oh that was cheatin’,” Morgan objected, shaking off the hold and making to come after me. I put myself on Reid’s right, between the corner of his desk and the scruffy doctor. Morgan just gave me a slow shake of his head. “He can’t protect you forever, and when he’s gone you’re gonna wish you’d let me teach you how to save yourself.”</p><p>JJ, overhearing his comment, paused on her way to Hotch’s office to give him a wary side-eye. “Well <i>that’s</i> not ominous or anything…”</p><p>Morgan scoffed as he backed to his desk with his hands up, trying to defend himself. “Ay, those two started it.”</p><p>“Right,” she snorted, giving him a look. “Try that with someone who <i>doesn’t</i> know you.”</p><p>As the two of them went at it, I turned in my seat and peeked up at Reid. “Thanks. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you out of working.”</p><p>“It wasn’t your fault,” he assured, and then a flicker of shyness passed over his face. “You could – you can stay over here, if you’d like. So he doesn’t bother you.”</p><p>“Really? I don’t wanna bother <i>you</i> though.”</p><p>“You never bother me,” he promised instantly as he turned back to his reports like he hadn’t just completely turned me to mush. How did four words get my mind to short-circuit like that? How did <i>Reid</i> get me to short-circuit like <i>this</i>? Biting back a giddy smile, I just settled into my chair and did my best to focus on what I needed to do. </p><p>We made it nearly an hour this time – a record for our little corner – before we were disrupted again. The familiar jingling of bracelets pulled me out of the workbook, and Penelope waved to me as I looked up at her approach.</p><p>“Reid, I need your magnificent brain,” my best friend sighed as she paused in front of him and motioned for him to come with her. “Can you come take a look at the cases JJ sent me and help me narrow some things down?”</p><p>Morgan looked up and caught my eye. A dangerous grin took over his face as he stood and he mouthed, <i>time’s up</i>.</p><p>“No, don’t take him,” I said quickly, snagging Reid’s sleeve as he stood. Pen fixed me with a devilishly amused grin and I felt my cheeks heating up. Though I dropped my hold on him, he lingered at my side. “Morgan’s attacking me and if you take him, I’m unprotected.”</p><p>“Maybe if you knew how to defend yourself you wouldn’t need pretty boy to save you,” Morgan teased as he crossed to us, reaching to try and snag my wrist again. Reid caught his hand and pushed it back down again as I pointed out, </p><p>“If <i>you</i> didn’t keep trying to attack me for no reason, I wouldn’t need defending!”</p><p>As Reid started after Penelope, he glanced back and gave me an apologetic smile. “I’ll be back soon. Good luck.”</p><p>There were a few moments of still silence while Morgan and I stared one another down. We didn’t move until Penelope and Reid had disappeared down the hall. The moment they were gone, Morgan lunged for me and I spun, taking off to the ramp. He was just behind me, but when he realized what my next point of refuge was, he had enough sense to stop his attack. </p><p>Hotch glanced up as I knocked on the door, raising his brows when he saw the look on my face. “Is everything alright?”</p><p>“No,” I huffed, taking that as invitation to come in before Morgan changed his mind and started after me again. I trudged to the couch and collapsed onto the cushions, frowning up at him. “Can I work in here? Morgan’s harassing me.”</p><p>The concern on his face melted off and he just shook his head in exasperation, looking back down at the report he was working on. I caught him trying to fight off the hint of a smile. “Of course.”</p><p>Settling in to work, I crossed my legs up onto the couch and <i>finally</i> started making some leeway on the workbook. After almost forty-five minutes of companionable silence, I finally scribbled the last line and then scampered across the room. </p><p>Hotch took the booklet I handed off to him and skimmed through it briefly, nodding as he examined my work. “This looks good, and you’ve finished much quicker than I expected.”</p><p>“It’s amazing how much easier it is to work when you’re not being assaulted,” I huffed, earning a puzzled look from my boss. I jerked my thumb in the direction of the bullpen. “Morgan took it upon himself to force self-defense lessons on me.”</p><p>Hotch actually rolled his eyes and sat my booklet aside, turning to face me as he tugged his shirt sleeve up a bit. “Show me the hold he was using.”</p><p>“I – what? Really?” I half laughed, staring down at him in surprise. “How did you know that’s what he was doing?”</p><p>“Your desk used to be mine,” he said dryly, nodding at his outstretched arm and repeating, “show me the hold.” </p><p>Still caught off guard at his request, I took hold of his wrist the same way Morgan had; my fingers didn’t even touch. “Like this. But his hand wraps all the way around my wrist so I couldn’t break away.”</p><p>“You still can,” Hotch assured, and then tapped the space on his arm where my fingers didn’t meet. “Even in a total hold, he’ll still have a weakness at his thumb. You want to maneuver around that point, moving your arm out of the direct line of his hold and against the weak spot.”</p><p>He easily pulled his arm to the side, twisting up against my thumb and pulling away as he brought his elbow up to push my arm back. My hand was off him before I could even try to tighten my grip; I huffed and frowned. “You made that look way too easy.”</p><p>“It <i>is</i> easy,” he promised, and the motioned to my arm. “May I?”</p><p>Nodding, I held it out to him and, just as Morgan had, he took hold of my wrist in a secure but gentle hold. His fingers overlapped and he tapped the spot where his thumb rested over his fingers. “Keep my weak spot in mind. I want you to do as I did: twist your arm down against my thumb, pull towards your waist, and bring your elbow back against me.”</p><p>Slowly, I did each step as he walked me through it, and when I knocked my elbow into his forearm, his hold dropped. We did it three more times, with each one picking up speed. By the fifth round, I was able to almost immediately break his grip on me.   </p><p>“Very good,” he praised, giving me the same smile I got when I hit my target at the shooting range. He jerked his head towards the door and suggested, “you should really go put it to practice. Just to be sure you’ve got a good understanding.”</p><p>Permission from Hotch to show up Morgan? Say no more. With an excited grin, I turned and hurried out of his office. As expected, the moment he saw me Morgan was already getting up. He beat me to my desk, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.  </p><p>“I’d think twice about picking on me if I were you,” I warned, pointedly reaching out towards my desk. For a profiler, he took the obvious bait without batting an eye. Morgan’s hand wrapped around my wrist and held me in place. </p><p>“Yeah? Why’s that, sunshine?” he teased, and I gave him a cheeky grin. With a sharp twist of my arm, just as Hotch had showed me, I pulled down and then elbowed him back away from me as my wrist slipped from his fingers. </p><p>Emily let out a laugh at the look of shock on Morgan’s face. The startled man looked between his now-empty hand and my very smug face. “What? How the hell did you…”</p><p>His eyes narrowed over my shoulder and I turned to follow his gaze. Hotch, leaning in the doorway of his office, gave me a thumbs-up and Morgan dropped his head back. “Aw come <i>on</i>, Hotch!” At the smirk he received, Morgan instantly shifted his plan of attack. “Alright, alright. You take away botherin’ the gremlin, now I got no choice but to bother <i>you</i>.”</p><p>The smile fell off Hotch’s face. “Absolutely not. I’m very busy.”</p><p>“Not too busy to plot against me,” Morgan argued, already making his way up the ramp, inevitably trying to get into Hotch’s office before Hotch could lock him out. “Y’know I’d think you’d <i>want</i> me annoyin’ her because I’m sure you have a lot to get done and I don’t have anythin’ to do –“</p><p>“You don’t?” Hotch asked, slowly raising a brow. “In that case, I’m sure I can find some more case files –“</p><p>Morgan’s hands went up and he instantly backed away. “Okay, hey now. Take it easy. No need to come out swingin’ the big guns like that.”</p><p>Hotch snorted, shaking his head before he turned and slipped inside, shutting the door. I was almost positive I heard the lock clicking into place. </p><p>“Alright. It’s official,” Emily decided as we all finally settled down at our own desks. “Aria, you’re never leaving again. This was easily the most entertaining day I’ve had in over a week.”</p><p>It felt good to be wanted. Part of me, this small little voice in my head, had told me all week they probably wouldn’t care I was gone. Most people didn’t miss me. Hell, I’d gone to camp one summer and the only person who’d missed me for the three months was Jude. Even Aubrianna hadn’t really cared, although that was probably because I’d taken – and then lost – her favorite shirt. </p><p>Still. </p><p>I’d never been missed the way I had been this week, and it was a good feeling. It was how I’d imagined coming home should’ve been after that summer. Welcomed back with hugs and shared muffins and being teased within an inch of my sanity, purely out of love. Emily had nothing to worry about.</p><p>There was no way I was leaving my family again.</p><p>--<br/>
<b><span class="u">Spencer</span></b></p><p>It was Spencer’s favorite part of work. He’d never been a clock-watcher before but now he spent the day counting down the minutes until 4pm. Aria was more reliable than his watch at times; she rarely deviated from her own personal schedule. </p><p>And when they weren’t on a case, that schedule included their afternoon caffeine pick-me-up. Right on time, he heard her chipper voice drifting closer as she made her way across the bullpen, a cup of coffee in each hand. </p><p>He tried to look like he hadn’t been waiting all day for this moment, staring uncomprehending at the file on his desk in an attempt to look busy. The soft trace of her perfume – roses, with an undertone of subtle sandalwood – swirled with the coffee she carried, and the comforting combination filled his lungs as he took a deep breath. He used to say that books and summer rainstorms were his favorite scents, but nothing could compare to the smell of 4pm.  </p><p>“Okay,” she announced as she reached his desk. Though his workspace was painfully cluttered, he always left the corner clear now so she could take a seat beside him as she liked to do. His coffee was placed by the file he still hadn’t really read, and she took a sip of her own as she settled into place. “I believe you promised me magic tricks.”</p><p>Spencer had really hoped she’d ask. He’d spent all of last Saturday in his apartment, going over all the ones he knew. Would she like something flashy and extravagant? Or maybe something more mysterious and edgy? What kind of magic tricks did girls like? <i>None</i>, in his experience. </p><p>That’s where his ‘self-appointed wingman’ had come in. Morgan caught his eye over Aria’s shoulder and nodded vigorously, waving his hands to urge him to do what they’d planned. Spencer cleared his throat and quickly reached into the satchel hanging off the back of his chair, pulling out a deck of cards.  </p><p>“Pick any number between one and ten,” he instructed, enjoying watching her face pull into concentration as she took his instruction seriously. </p><p>“Hmm… eight,” she decided, and Spencer bobbed his head as he began to shuffle the cards. </p><p>For once, he felt confident. This was his element, his world. Magic was something he was good at, something he could do second nature so easily that he could concentrate on actually holding a conversation with her instead.  </p><p>Once shuffled, he held the deck out to her. “Okay. Deal down to the eighth card, take a look at it, and then shuffle it into the deck again.”</p><p>Her face lit up in excitement as he handed her the cards, and she eagerly did as instructed. On the eighth card, she playfully looked up at him, holding the card protectively to her chest. </p><p>“No peeking, wizard,” she teased, getting an unexpected laugh out of him. She stole a quick glance at the card, and then shuffled the card into the deck. She began to hand it back, and then suddenly pulled away. “Hang on, one more time.”</p><p>She shuffled more thoroughly, narrowing her gaze at him as she finally slowly held it out. Spencer laughed again as he took the deck, and to her surprise he tucked it back into the box and set it aside on his desk. </p><p>Aria’s eyes widened in excited curiosity, looking between the discarded box and Spencer. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands as he studied her. For a heartbeat, that’s all he did. He’d missed seeing her every day. It had become a luxury he didn’t know he’d had until she wasn’t there. </p><p>She looked tired; he knew her finals had taken a lot out of her. He’d heard the panic in her voice when she’d called him last week demanding to know exactly who decided to make Chemistry as complicated as it was. It’d felt great to be the one to ease her worry then, just as it felt great to put the smile on her face now. Even exhausted, she was beautiful.</p><p>Not wanting to linger on her more than he already had, Spencer <i>hmm</i>’d and narrowed his eyes. “Your card is red.” </p><p>Those captivating hazel eyes widened even more, and instantly she glanced at the deck box again before looking back. “It – yes, it is. How did you know that?”</p><p>“The same was I know it’s a diamond card,” he told her, fighting off the grin as her mouth popped into an ‘o’. </p><p>He leaned a little closer, trying not to get distracted by the scent of her perfume or the sweep of her soft, burgundy dress against his legs as he did so. He loved all shades of purple, and seeing the dress against her olive skin reminded him exactly why. </p><p>“In fact,” he mused, quirking a smile up at her. “I’d say it’s the ace of diamonds.”</p><p>“No <i>way</i>,” Aria gasped, giving him a disbelieving laugh. “Okay. You’re not just a profiler. You’re a certified mind reader.”</p><p>“I’m just a magician,” he teased, knowing exactly what she’d ask to set him up perfectly for his grand finale. </p><p>“Nope. You read my mind,” she insisted. When he shook his head, she asked, “how else did you do that, then?”</p><p>Spencer shrugged and said slyly, “I’ll admit, I was looking at it the whole time.”</p><p>Aria went to say ‘<i>I told you so</i>’, but she frowned instead, her eyes going to the deck box on his desk. “You couldn’t have. You put them away –“</p><p>With a grin, Spencer reached up past her ear and, with a flick of his wrist, produced the card out of his sleeve and pulled it back to show her. “I didn’t put <i>all</i> of them away.”</p><p>The absolute delight on Aria’s face pushed all of his doubts about his magic away. He’d never seen <i>anyone</i> (save for his mom) this thrilled by his tricks, and she was <i>genuine</i>. It wasn’t faked or forced; she was truly elated at what he’d just done. </p><p>“Reid that’s <i>amazing</i>,” she gushed, taking the card from him and turning it over. “Seriously. You’re amazing, you know that, right?”</p><p>Spencer was so lost for words all he could do was smile at her. She thought he was <i>amazing</i>? There went his thoughts again. How did she do that <i>every</i> time? He forgot what he’d even planned to ask her for a moment, and he started to panic. Thankfully, she was still studying the card. He shifted back in his seat to send Morgan a wide-eyed look of <i>oh my god please help me</i>.</p><p><i>Library, ask about the library</i>, Morgan mouthed quickly. Library! That was it. Spencer sat up quickly, gathering his thoughts together as he took a breath. He had it all planned. She’d mentioned wanting to start studying for her advanced psychology classes, and she <i>had</i> said he was an excellent teacher… </p><p>“Um, Aria?” he asked, so softly she didn’t even hear him. Morgan motioned exaggeratedly behind her, urging him to speak up. Spencer nodded quickly, turning back to her and clearing his throat. “Aria? I was wondering –“</p><p>“Hey, Spence?”</p><p>His heart sank into his stomach as JJ made her way to their gathering. First Garcia a few weeks ago, and now her too? What were the odds he’d be interrupted like this <i>twice</i>?... he didn’t want to think about them right now. He desperately just wanted to ask Aria to study with him and he couldn’t even get that far. </p><p>His wingman instantly jumped into action, trying to salvage the moment. “Hey, JJ, maybe I can help instead –“</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she chuckled, handing a report over to Spencer as she gave his friend a doubtful smirk. “I actually need this to get done.”</p><p>Before Morgan could even begin to try and fix the moment, Aria turned to give him a look. “Funny how you can volunteer for extra work when you fought tooth-and-nail to avoid the stuff you actually <i>had</i> to do.”</p><p>“Okay, I was just sayin’, the kid’s got a lot to do already,” Morgan tried again. Though it <i>did</i> have an effect, it wasn’t the one Spencer had been hoping for. Aria turned back to him, giving a sweet, heart-stopping smile, and to his dismay she hopped off the desk. </p><p>“Here Jayje, I’ll help you,” she offered, giving him a quick wink as she held out the ace of diamonds to him. “Your card, Doctor Wizard.”</p><p>He forced a smile onto his face as he took it and sat back, trying not to show how dejected he felt. Though he was touched that she’d instantly jump to help him as soon as she heard he had a lot to do, that hadn’t been the point. Before he or Morgan could try anything else, Aria was already following JJ back to her office. </p><p>He <i>and</i> Morgan groaned and slumped back in their seats. </p><p>“Alright, I admit I wasn’t ready for <i>that</i>. Totally came outta left field. I forgot you’re crushin’ on a literal ray’a sunshine who actually <i>likes</i> helpin’ people,” Morgan sighed, rolling his head to look at him. Seeing the look on Spencer’s face, Morgan sat up a bit. “Ay, that was really good, kid. And she only walked away to help you out.”</p><p>“I still didn’t even get to ask her to study, Morgan,” he nearly whined, voice tight with frustration. “Why is this so hard?” </p><p>Morgan sighed, clasped his hands together, and leaned forward onto his knees as he gave a small chuckle. “’Cause you like her so much. You wouldn’t be freakin’ out trying to ask Garcia to study, would you?”</p><p>Spencer furrowed his brow. “Why would I ask Garcia? She doesn’t need –“</p><p>“Not the point,” Morgan cut in, waving his hand. “I’m just sayin’, you’re in your head too much and freakin’ yourself out. I’m <i>tellin</i>’ you she likes you, kid. As someone who just got front row seats to you two nerd-flirtin’ over a card trick, I guarantee she’s into you. So you don’t gotta psych yourself out.”</p><p>Pressing his lips together, he gave a small nod as he toyed with the card. “I just… I feel like I’m running a race I didn’t train for. I need to hurry and ask her before I lose the chance. What if – if I take so long, someone <i>else</i> asks her out?”</p><p>To his surprise, Morgan got to his feet and came over to settle in the spot Aria had just been. </p><p>“Alright. I’m lettin’ you in on a secret that’ll make you feel better,” he said, voice dropping just a bit. “<i>Apparently</i> there’s this guy Aria ran into a few weeks ago. Prentiss and Garcia are callin’ him <i>first-floor hottie</i>. Accordin’ to them, he’s good lookin’. <i>Really</i> good lookin’. As in, they were callin’ him a <i>chiseled Adonis hunk</i> –“</p><p>“How is this supposed to make me feel better?” Spencer quipped, frowning at Morgan, feeling worse than before. Morgan smirked and leaned forward, </p><p>“’Cause <i>apparently</i>, pretty boy, Aria’s not interested. She says he’s not her type.”</p><p>Instantly, the morning of October 30th came to Spencer’s mind. It was a day he often went back to. Not just because Aria had fixed his hair – his heart fluttered just <i>thinking</i> about her fingers running through his curls – but because of something that he’d caught Morgan teasing her about. </p><p>“<i>You know, it’s makin’ sense now why you told Garcia and Prentiss you weren’t interested.</i>”</p><p>He’d just given Aria the chocolate he’d gotten especially for her, and she’d given him a smile that’d taken his breath away. At the time, the smile is all he’d cared about. Now, though, his mind put together what Morgan had said that day with what he’d just told him now. </p><p>Was Aria not interested in the overly-attractive man because… of him? Could that even <i>happen</i> to him? He was, quite decidedly, the exact opposite of anyone being described as a ‘<i>chiseled Adonis hunk</i>’. </p><p>Morgan took his silence in stride and stood up, giving Spencer’s shoulder a brief squeeze before heading back to his desk. “You think about that. An’ in the meantime, we’ll regroup and figure out our next plan of attack. One way or another, you an’ your lady are goin’ on a nerdy library date.”</p><p>Spencer ignored Morgan’s teasing as his mind kept going around the same question: what was Aria’s ‘<i>type</i>’? If it wasn’t someone as attractive as Morgan had described, could it possibly be <i>him</i>? Could she really be attracted to a very tall, very skinny magician who had three PhD’s and no matching socks?</p><p>As he turned back to his desk to try and take his mind off one of the few things he truly couldn’t begin to understand, he caught sight of the coffee Aria had brought him. The coffee she <i>always</i> brought him. The muffin this morning. </p><p>It was what friends did. Except… his other friends didn’t do this. JJ didn’t bring him coffee every day. Emily didn’t buy him special snacks. Hotch and Rossi didn’t ask to see a magic trick (in fact, they usually asked the opposite). Morgan didn’t call him at 9:30pm on a Thursday night asking for his help with things that probably could’ve found online. </p><p>Only one person did. </p><p>Aria did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow, so much love from you guys! Thank you so much! I'm so happy you liked Spencer's POV, I'll definitely be doing more from him in the future! This was just a cute little filler chapter, I wanted to incorporate some of your ideas you gave me and I hope you like what I did with them! If your suggestion wasn't in here, I promise you it'll be added in the next filler chapter!</p><p>Please let me know what you think! This is the first non-episode chapter since Ch. 1 and I'd love to know your thoughts about it! Do you want more like this? Do you want me to just stick with chapter-based episodes? What do you want to see? I'm all ears! If you've got a few moments, please let me know your thoughts! Your comments truly make my day and help me get through the week (and motivate my writing)! I appreciate each and every comment I get!</p><p>Happy Monday, I hope you guys have a beautiful week! &lt;3</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Overthinking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x08 - Lucky</i>
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  <b>Chapter Content Warning: descriptions physical abuse, emotional abuse, assault, choking. This section of the chapter is marked before and after with *** to make it easy to skip if this content bothers you.</b>
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<p>  <b><br/><a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/624816657127391232/chapter-19-is-up-chapter-content-warning">Aria's Outfit</a><br/></b></p>
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    <p>Hands slammed into my chest and I lost my footing, falling hard onto my back, breath leaving me in a sharp exhale. Before I could recover a shadow fell over me, and suddenly an arm came across my chest, pinning me to the ground. </p>
<p>Just like he’d shown, I brought my knee up, catching Morgan hard in the hip and throwing him off balance. He gave a grunt and the weight he’d been using to pin my arm lessened. Taking my window, I twisted myself hard to the side and managed to knock him to the side. </p>
<p>As Morgan moved to grab me again I spun on a knee, grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm hard behind his back. In the same movement I planted a knee on the small of his back, and my free arm came to pin his shoulders, holding him hard to the mat. </p>
<p>“That was perfect!” JJ cheered as she came to join us. I eased myself back onto my haunches to let Morgan roll over. He gave a grunt as he flopped onto his back, tenderly rubbing the hip I’d driven my knee into.  </p>
<p>JJ laughed and held her hand out to him as I popped up, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet. Morgan slowly rose to his full height, his hand resting against his lower back with a grimace. Despite the pain, though, he gave me a nod of approval. “Real good, Sunshine. Looks like you got that wrist pin down now.”</p>
<p>“It’s so much easier than I was making it,” I admitted, and Morgan cracked a wry smile.</p>
<p>“I told you it was just you overthinkin’ things,” he teased, affectionately nudging me as he looked to JJ. “You ready to give it a try?”</p>
<p>She gave me a look of surprise before glancing back to him. “Are you sure you’re up for another round? Aria really laid into you with that last sequence.”</p>
<p>Morgan nodded and beckoned her over with a crook of his fingers, silently inviting her to jump in with him. I settled on the mat where JJ had been and tucked my knees to my chest, watching both of them eagerly as they moved through the same practice round. </p>
<p>Though I knew he’d just brought up self-defense on Monday to give him more ways to annoy me, he really <i>had</i> been interested in showing me how to protect myself. At first I’d been worried it would just be more of Morgan harassing me and messing around, but the moment he stepped into the gym, he’d gone into mentoring mode. </p>
<p>Tuesday morning, it’d just been the two of us. Well, us and Penelope. With school still being out for another week, I’d taken up temporary residence with my best friend. It was so much easier to sleep at her apartment and then carpool together instead of fighting with the ridiculous traffic into town every day. </p>
<p>When JJ had found out about our training session, she’d eagerly joined in the next morning. Though only on my fourth day under Morgan’s teachings, I’d made a lot of improvement. He really was a big brother in practically every aspect: he drove me absolutely insane and annoyed me like it was his profession, but he didn’t mess around when it came to teaching me life skills. </p>
<p>JJ performed the sequence even quicker than I had, kneeing Morgan’s hip harshly and then flipping around and pinning him on his stomach practically in the time it took me to blink. I broke into a round of applause as she patted Morgan’s shoulder and stood, crossing back to me.</p>
<p>“You’re seriously a badass,” I laughed, high-fiving her as I hopped up. Morgan was slower getting to his feet, but eventually he dragged himself to join us. As he did, I looked up at him. “I’m curious though. Wouldn’t it be more effective to knee you in the crotch? That would totally incapacitate you.”</p>
<p>Morgan winced at the thought but nodded in agreement. “That’s true. But it’s more instinctive for someone – especially a man – to protect his groin. When your attacker feels your knee coming up, that’ll be the first place they defend. It’ll be harder to land a blow, and they could capitalize on the block and either stop the attack, or trap your leg to further take control. Plus, you knee a man where it really hurts, and he’ll drop down and make it harder – if not impossible – for you to get away.”</p>
<p>“If you go for the hip, not only is it harder to block, it keeps you on the outside of their body,” JJ further explained. “It gives you an opening so that if you’re not looking to follow through with the pin, you can roll and make an escape.”</p>
<p>I nodded eagerly, fired up and bouncing on the balls of my feet again, ready to try the sequence one more time. Instead, though, Morgan rolled his neck and then glanced at his watch before nodding and swinging his arms back and forth, loosening himself up</p>
<p>“We still got about half an hour. I think you two got that set down, so let’s try somethin’ else.” He turned to JJ and jerked his head for her to come closer, ready to help him demonstrate. As she did, he looked between us and prefaced, “this next attack is a pretty common one, and it can be hard to escape if you’re caught off guard.” </p>
<p>As JJ stepped up to stand directly in front of him, Morgan’s hands came up and wrapped around her neck. The instinctive terror that spiked in my chest took my breath away faster than Morgan knocking me to the mat had done. </p>
<p>I watched in frozen terror as Morgan’s hands tightened minutely while he explained, “a chokehold like this seems simple to break out of, but your attacker’s got a pretty good upper hand and, especially with how small you two are, it can be easy to use their strength to their advantage and simply overpower you.”</p>
<p>All I could do was watch in barely-masked fear. Morgan had said something to us, but I didn’t hear the words. The blood rushing in my ears filled my head with a roar, a wordless plea to turn and run as fast as I could. </p>
<p>“Now, JJ, show me how you’d try to break out of this, just on instinct. What’s your first move?”</p>
<p>JJ instantly lifted her arms up in front of her, trying to push out against Morgan’s elbows and break the hold off her. He didn’t budge, and the invisible terror gripping at <i>my</i> throat tightened even more. I couldn’t breathe. </p>
<p>When that didn’t work, JJ instead tried to lift her arms up over his from the outside, hitting her fists against his elbows, trying to lesson his grip. He still didn’t budge; when had I started shaking?</p>
<p>“See, it’s instinct to hit and push, but it gets you nowhere. And while you’re busy doin’ that, they can completely gain the upper hand.”</p>
<p>Without warning, Morgan pushed JJ forward, pinning her to the wall by her throat, and suddenly I wasn’t in the gym anymore. I wasn’t watching Morgan and JJ. I was watching myself. </p>
<p>
  <b>Trigger warning: physical abuse, emotional abuse, assault, choking. If this makes you uncomfortable, you can skip past this section, marked with ***</b>
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<p>
  <i>Connor threw the balcony door open so hard the pictures shivered on the wall. I gave a start and dropped the can opener onto the counter, clutching at my chest and scowling across the apartment at my boyfriend. </i>
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  <i>“Can you please not do that?” Ignoring me – as always – he slammed the door shut again behind him. “Connor I’m serious, you’re gonna break something –“</i>
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  <i>“Shut up,” he growled irritably, rolling his eyes at me. </i>
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  <i>“Don’t tell me to shut up, please. You know I hate that,” I huffed. As I continued to glare at him, I noticed the smoke coming from the grill, thicker than it should’ve been. “What happened?”</i>
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  <i>“Dinner’s ruined. The fucking hamburgers are burnt,” he spat, sneering as he scoffed, “that grill is a piece of shit. I’m done. I’m not grilling anymore.”</i>
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  <i>Irritation flooded through me and I fought to keep my own temper in check. He’d been <b>dying</b> for a grill. He hadn’t stopped whining about wanting one for weeks, and of course he was giving up the very moment it became difficult. </i>
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  <i>“I told you it’ll take a little time to learn the ins and outs of grilling,” I tried, doing my best to keep from patronizing him. “You’ve never done it before. It’s new and you won’t pick it up right away –“</i>
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<p>
  <i>“I know how to fucking grill, Aria. It’s not me. It’s that shitty grill you insisted on getting. I just wasted four hundred dollars on a pile of junk.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The scoff left me before I could stop it. “I told you to wait until there was a sale but YOU insisted on getting one today –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Connor’s sharp eyes snapped to me and anger sparked in his blue eyes darkening. “So this my fault.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth,” I argued, coming around the kitchen counter as I crossed my arms. There was no point in trying to get him to see sense. My only hope right now was to try and keep the night from going to shit.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Dinner’s fucking ruined now,” he nearly whined, JUST this side of full-on pouting. “Grilling is such a goddamn waste of time.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Swallowing my annoyance with his childish attitude, I lowered my voice a hint and drew back my tone of irritation. Stepping up to him, I rested a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile when he looked down at me. “Show me the burgers. I’m sure we can fix them.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He gave a bitter laugh and jerked away from my touch, but at least he took my suggestion. He shoved the sliding door open and stomped out onto the balcony, flinging the lid open. With a frown, I studied the patties as he angrily flipped them. Sure, they were a little darker than they should’ve been, but they were nowhere near ‘ruined’. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“They don’t look burnt, Con,” I said, nudging him gently. “I’m sure they’ll still be really good. You made your own seasoning for them, right?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah. And you won’t be able to taste it over the charring,” he muttered. I barely resisted an eye-roll. He was so damn negative all the time. He went to flip the last burger, and it stuck to the grates. He gave a growl and began trying to peel it up with the spatula. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>When it didn’t budge, he snarled and jammed the spatula at it. The burger broke apart and crumbled, falling through the grates into the charcoals below. There was half a second of quiet, dangerous calm, and then Connor snapped. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He let out a string of furious cussing and began stabbing at the other patties with the spatula, sending them to the same fate. Instantly I rushed forward, grabbing his arm and trying to pull back. “Connor! Knock it off! You’re wasting the food –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“This whole goddamn thing is fucking trash!” he snarled. Without warning he threw the spatula aside and grabbed the bottom of the grill, upending it onto its back and sending charred hamburger and hot coals spilling across the balcony rug. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Jesus, Connor! Seriously?” I cried, elbowing him back out of my way as the rug near-instantly caught fire. Drought season was no joke in Colorado. I grabbed the half-full watering can and quickly poured it over the small flames that had begun to grow. Thankfully it was enough to extinguish the fire before it got out of hand. Once sure our apartment wasn’t going up in flames, I turned and started swatting the hot coals onto the concrete before the rug ignited again. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Behind me, Connor gave a furious snarl and kicked the toppled grill. The hot grate popped out and fell over against my bare thigh. The white-hot pain jolted me back and I fell against the balcony railing with a cry. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Without even looking down at me, Connor spun on his heel and stalked inside, still cursing furiously. The pain blossoming on my leg drew my attention off him, and I quickly shifted to the side to study what had just happened. Four angry, red lines ran across the side of my thigh and I winced as I shifted position and let my skirt brush over them. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I was furious. It wasn’t the first time Connor’s tantrums had ended with me getting hurt. Bruises from the can opener he’d mindlessly flung across the room, getting shoved into the wall when he stormed away from an argument…</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Whether it was the pain, the fear sparking in the back of my mind, or the mental exhaustion, I couldn’t say, but I was finally pushed over the edge of my patience. I shoved to my feet – wincing at the sharp sting from hassling my burns – and stormed inside. Conner was on the couch, remote in hand, glaring at the TV like he hadn’t just gone borderline psychotic. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i> “Are you done throwing a fit?” I snapped, arms crossing again as I paused to stand over him. He didn’t look at me, didn’t answer. “You gonna help me clean up the mess you made?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Nope,” he snipped, flipping through the channels. My arms tightened over my chest as I tried to keep from going absolutely batshit crazy on him. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Do you even care you hurt me?” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He snorted in irritated amusement and finally his eyes flicked up to give me a belittling smirk. It sent my annoyance through the roof. He never took me seriously when I pointed out the things he did. In his mind, if he didn’t believe it then it wasn’t true. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“How did I hurt you, Aria? I didn’t touch you.” His go-to excuse. If he didn’t physically inflict the pain, it wasn’t real. Whether it was burns and bruises he felt he didn’t cause, or the emotional wounds he gave, if he couldn’t see them, they weren’t real in his delusional world. I tugged the hem of my skirt up to show the burn, and then held out my tender hands. The tips of my fingers were red and sore from the coals and the grate. “That’s what you’re bitching about? There’s hardly anything there. Quit overreacting.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Connor instantly went back to the TV and even turned the volume up a few notches. The frustration in my chest welled up and I snapped, </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m overreacting? I’m sorry, which one of us just destroyed a brand new four-hundred-dollar grill? Who wasted a bunch of food? Who ruined the rug? Who could’ve caught the place on fire? Who left their girlfriend to clean up the mess and let her get hurt in the process?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He didn’t answer again, staring blankly ahead, and that was it. My patience was completely gone. I snatched the remote out of his hand, turned the TV off, and threw it onto the other end of the couch. A slow smile curled over his lips as he nodded, taking in what I’d done. That should’ve been my first warning, but I was too caught up in my own anger I didn’t pay attention.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Connor I’m sick of you always doing this. The second you realize you’re not naturally gifted at something you just give up and throw it aside. You waste MY school return for shit you didn’t need and now you’re throwing a fit –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Shut the fuck up, Aria,” he laughed humorlessly, still staring straight ahead. His hand tightened into a fist on his knee; that should’ve been my second warning. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Don’t tell me to shut up,” I snapped. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Then shut the hell up and I won’t have to,” he threw back; that was it. I was done. I stormed past him and into his room, grabbing the overnight bag I’d brought. As I came back out, I saw he’d gotten up. He was in the middle of the living room, hands shoved in his pockets. Though he was smiling, the hard gleam in his eyes instantly sent a tremor of unease and I paused. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What are you doing?” he challenged, look unwavering. I took a slow breath and simply told him, </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m going home. You’re clearly in a mood, and I’m not dealing with this right now. I’ve got class tomorrow and I’m not staying up all night fighting again.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He gave a harsh laugh of disbelief. “You’re gonna go because dinner is ruined?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m sorry. Who was it that I was talking to the last ten minutes? Was that someone else out there that threw a temper tantrum with the grill?” His jaw tensed and the smile wavered just a hint. “I don’t care about dinner. We could’ve ordered takeout and this wouldn’t have been an issue. The problem isn’t the burgers, it’s your attitude. It’s your temper. I’m just tired of you doing this every single time one little thing goes wrong. You let it ruin the rest of your day and then you take it out on me. I’m not doing this tonight.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Jesus Aria, what the fuck are you even talking about!? Is this about your leg? What do you want me to do, huh? Apologize because you got yourself hurt being stupid?” he sneered, shaking his head in annoyance. “I’m sorry. There. Are you all better now?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Without responding, I shook my head and turned on my heel. “I’ll see you later.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey,” he growled; I heard him moving after me. “Don’t walk away. I asked you a question.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Playing his own game, I didn’t answer. As I grabbed my purse, Connor’s hand shot out and ripped it out of my hand, throwing it across the room. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Are you serious –“ I started, and suddenly I’d been spun to face him. He ripped my bag off my shoulder and let it fall at our feet as he took hold of my upper arms. Instantly I froze; he’d never put his hands on me like this before. Sure, he’d grabbed my wrists, shoved me down, slapped me once… he’d never held me so tightly it brought tears to my eyes. “Connor let me –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Don’t ignore me,” he spat, smile flickering over his face, at war with the dangerous sneer curling his lips. “I asked you a fucking question and I want a fucking answer.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I couldn’t remember what he’d asked. I couldn’t focus on anything but the cold glint in his dark blue gaze, the ache of his tightening fingers around my arms, the near-deafening pounding of my heart as I realized I couldn’t pull free. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m sorry,” I said softly, trying to soothe him. I’d only seen him lose it once, and the concussion he gave me took weeks to go away. He’d been pushed too far; I was in danger. “I overreacted. I shouldn’t have snapped –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Answer my goddamn question, Aria!” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>When all I did was shrink away from him, at a loss for words, he snapped. Whatever bit of calm he’d been holding onto disappeared. His hands dropped my arms, but before I could move they wrapped around my neck. He squeezed them together and dug his thumbs into my throat, instantly cutting off my airway.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Connor –“ I wheezed, eyes widening in panic. Desperately my hands came up to pull at his wrists, trying to loosen his grip. “Can’t – I can’t –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Can’t what, Aria? Huh? Can’t what?” he laughed darkly, tightening his grip. “You don’t wanna answer me? Fine. You’re done talking.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Fear took over, igniting my fight-or-flight response. My arms came up between his to shove against his elbows, but he didn’t budge. His grip tightened, and the panic doubled. My hands scrabbled at his arms, hard enough to draw blood but not enough to break his hold. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I tried to draw a gasping breath. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“S…top…” I gasped out, the last of the air leaving my lungs as they began to burn, begging me to take a breath. I couldn’t. My body began to thrash under his told, doing whatever I could to fight free. Connor just laughed. He was grinning. He loved my fear. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>In my desperate struggle I landed a kick to his knee, enough to get him to take a step back. All that did was piss him off more and he regained his footing to shove me backwards by the throat. He slammed me into the wall hard enough to send pictures to the floor. The pain blossoming in my head and down my spine was nothing compared to the terrifying, all-consuming burning ache in my chest. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Suddenly, Connor pulled back, getting me off the wall for a heartbeat before he shoved me into it again. The pain was worse this time; I’d hit my back against something behind me and I felt blood trickling down my spine before the panic of suffocation took over again and blocked it out. More picture fell around us; I tried to scream for help, but the only thing that came out was a choked sob. All I could do was pray his neighbors could hear the commotion. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>My arms came up feebly between his and I tried to push against them, tried to pry them off me. I couldn’t. The strength in my body was beginning to slip; if it wasn’t for his grip, I would’ve slumped to the ground. He leaned in closer, and though I tried to scrabble at his face, scratch at his eyes, I could barely lift my arms now. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Black ebbed into my vision, and slowly it faded until all I could see was Connor’s sadistic grin. My mouth opened into a final, silent plea to let me go. He gave a low, sinister laugh and just as I felt myself slipping away he taunted, “sorry, sugar. Can’t quite hear you.”</i>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Aria?”</p>
<p>A hand settled on my shoulder and I ripped myself back, stumbling so suddenly I nearly fell to the floor. JJ managed to catch my elbow to steady me, and she stared at me in barely-masked concern. I looked up at her, wide-eyed, for several moments as I brought myself back to the here and now. </p>
<p>“W-what?”</p>
<p>From over her shoulder, Morgan was studying me with a mix of worry and confusion. JJ gave my arm a squeeze and prompted gently, “I asked if you were okay.”</p>
<p>“I – um, I am,” I said quickly, giving a flickering smile. “S-sorry, I just – I zoned out.”</p>
<p>She didn’t even hide the disbelieving look she sent to Morgan before she settled her gaze on me again. “You’re pale. You were shaking. Is it your blood sugar?”</p>
<p>Oh thank god, an excuse. I nodded quickly and managed, “I just, I probably need a snack. You know what? I’m – I’m gonna go get dressed and head up.”</p>
<p>As I gently pulled from JJ’s touch and went to step around her, Morgan moved in front of me. The confusion had faded and now all he did was study me with deep concern. “You sure that’s all this is? You look pretty freaked.”</p>
<p>“Yep. That’s it,” I told him with a tight-lipped smile. My heart was still going a hundred miles a minute, the fear still prickling over my skin at the memory that had crept up on me and taken me by surprise. “I’ll, uh, I’ll meet you guys up there.”</p>
<p>Before either could ask any more questions, I rushed through the gym to the locker rooms. As I grabbed my shower bag and clothes, I willed the memories to go back into the corner of my mind I’d shoved them into. </p>
<p>The cold clutch of Conner’s shaking hands around my throat. The burning ache in my chest. The weight of his body leaning into me, holding me in place, trapping me. The fear and despair that had swirled through me in what I’d truly thought were my final moments. </p>
<p>As I stripped off my workout clothes, and turned to pull my hair up out of the way, I caught sight of my leg in the mirror. The scars were still there, four dark lines against my skin, a constant reminder of Connor. A reminder of the day I so desperately wanted to leave behind. That I <i>had</i> left behind until the night we’d saved Katie Jacobs. Until Connor had found me again. </p>
<p>I stepped under the water, nearly hot enough to burn me, hoping it’d be enough to wash away the cold chill that had seeped into me. To erase the feeling of his fingers on my skin, the white-hot charcoal under my fingers, the metal grate searing my leg –</p>
<p>I felt the familiar washes of panic starting to drag me down and my hands came up to clasp behind my neck. Back to the water, I hunched over, holding my head down, trying to hold myself together. </p>
<p>For a moment, I truly considered telling Morgan and JJ. Telling the whole team about Connor… about <i>Skeevy Jerkface</i>, and what he did, and why lately I could barely sleep through the night. Why I froze up every time my phone went off. Why just the <i>smell</i> of hamburgers could bring terrified tears to my eyes. </p>
<p>Maybe they could help me. </p>
<p>If they even believed me. </p>
<p>They would, wouldn’t they? They were my friends. They were my support. Hell, the team had helped me deal with my uncle, with my parents. Surely they’d help me with <i>him</i> too. </p>
<p><i>Uncle Randy didn’t believe you,</i> I reminded myself. My eyes squeezed shut. <i>The rest of the officers didn’t believe you. Your friends didn’t believe you. Mom and dad didn’t even believe you.</i></p>
<p>Hell, for the longest time, <i>I</i> didn’t believe <i>myself</i>. My therapist in Seattle had called it <i>gaslighting</i>. She’d said that, after five years of his emotional abuse, it was almost second-nature to doubt myself and take what he said as the truth. </p>
<p><i>You’re upset over nothing. I didn’t do that. It’s your fault. Stop imagining things. Don’t blame me for what you caused</i>. </p>
<p>As I left the shower to dry and dress, I started to picture telling the team. Would they actually listen to me? Would they take me seriously, or would they call me a liar like my family had? Would they understand why the smallest things terrified me, broke my heart, sent me into a panic? Or would they laugh at me, tell me to suck it up? Tell me I was being dramatic and obnoxious and embarrassing myself – and them, by extension? </p>
<p>My lips pressed together, stomach churning, imagining those words coming from JJ, or Rossi, or Morgan… I paused getting dressed and for several moments all I did was stand and stare at myself, suddenly feeling very small and very fragile. I didn’t know what upset me more at this point – the flashback I’d had, or the possibility of my friend’s rejection. </p>
<p>The thought of them looking at me the way my parents had… the way <i>I</i> had looked at myself… I didn’t even want to think about it. Thinking of my friends shutting me down just like my family had made me just as sick as the memories of those awful five years. To hear Emily or Reid or <i>Hotch</i> call me a liar, to laugh in my face, to doubt me –</p>
<p><i>But Penelope believed you,</i> I whispered to myself. Penelope had listened to the little I’d told her. She hadn’t laughed or rolled her eyes or even given me a single look that made me feel like I was crazy or overreacting. <i>Penelope cares. The team will care. The team can help</i>. </p>
<p>Maybe… maybe it was time I finally told them. I knew this is what <i>he</i> had wanted. He wanted to isolate me, to make me feel like I had no one to depend on. As luck had it for him, he really didn’t need to work hard to pull me away from my family. Sure, Aubrianna had taken my side, but the power he’d gotten when even the <i>police</i> wrote me off… even after what he’d done – after nearly killing me – I’d stayed. I’d felt like I had no one to turn to, and if the people who were legally obligated to help me hadn’t stepped up, what option did I have?</p>
<p>And now, he was trying to do that again. Strike when I was most vulnerable. Mom and dad had probably told him I was off on my own, and he was thinking he could catch me at a weak point and pull me back into his games. Well, this time, I <i>wasn’t</i> alone. I wouldn’t let myself be isolated this time, I wouldn’t let myself become his victim again. </p>
<p>After work. </p>
<p>After work I’d tell them. We’d get through the day and then I’d start with Morgan and JJ so I could explain why I’d freaked out during the training. I owed them that much at least. It was small, but it’d be a start, and once I told the rest of the team, I’d have grounds to fight back against him. This time I had a support system. I had the freakin’ <i>FBI</i> on my side. </p>
<p>A soft, gentle blanket of calm settled over my frazzled nerves, and I managed to take a slow, deep breath. Just the thought of having my friends on my side was enough to soothe the raw ache that had come to the surface. </p>
<p>By the time I left the locker room, I was actually smiling to myself. Morgan and JJ were waiting just outside the gym, and they both looked over I came up to them. JJ jerked her head towards the lobby with a smile and asked, </p>
<p>“Morgan and I were gonna go grab some breakfast. Did you want to come with?”</p>
<p>Though I <i>was</i> hungry, I knew if they got me alone like that, it’d be interrogation time. Even though I was ready to open up to them, I didn’t want to drop a bombshell like Connor on them before work started. </p>
<p>“Thanks, but I’m gonna pass. I’ve got an apple and peanut butter upstairs calling my name,” I said with an apologetic smile. JJ gave me a thumbs up as Morgan reached out and roped me into a hug. </p>
<p>“Alright, Sunshine. We’ll meet’ya upstairs.” As we pulled back, he kept a hand on my shoulder to keep me close. He studied me briefly, eyes flicking between my own as he asked quietly, “you okay?”</p>
<p>I nodded instantly, reaching up and patting his hand as he pulled back. “I’m good, cocoa crisp. I’ll see you guys in a few.”</p>
<p>The two of them waved as the turned and headed to the lobby. I took the back elevator upstairs and was surprised to see I was one of the first of our team in the bullpen. Hotch and Rossi were talking on the walkway, and both looked over as I dropped my stuff at my desk. </p>
<p>“<i>Buongiorno</i>, kiddo,” Rossi called as I waved up at them. “Hotch tells me you passed your last firearms class, eh?”</p>
<p>I nodded eagerly as I told him, “yep! I’m fully certified now, and ready to never use a shotgun ever again.”</p>
<p>Rossi bit back a snort as Hotch fixed me with a deadpan stare, and I returned it with a cheeky smile. He looked ready to launch into one of his ‘<i>benefits of shotguns in the FBI</i>’ speeches, but before he could get started, the phone in his office began to ring. </p>
<p>“I think that’s for you,” I told him helpfully. Rossi chuckled at the two of us as Hotch pretended to scowl before he reluctantly left to take the call. Snickering to myself, I decided to leave harassing my elders for later in the day and started on the coffee. </p>
<p>The amount of caffeine consumed by this team was borderline concerning. Even Reid – my once-constant tea buddy – had switched to coffee. Well, I say <i>coffee</i>… a better description of his drink was about three-fourths of his cup filled with sugar and French vanilla creamer, with a splash of dark brew to top it off.</p>
<p>Just mixing his drink made my own blood sugar spike. It <i>did</i> give me an excuse to tease him, though. And our playful banter was easily the highlight of my –</p>
<p>“<i>AriaAriaAriaAriaAria</i>!” </p>
<p>Penelope’s desperate hiss startled me out of my thoughts and I nearly dumped Reid’s creamer all over myself as I spun to face my best friend. Concern ignited in my chest at the panicked look on her face as she all but ran towards me. “Aria I need help!”</p>
<p>What?! My protective instincts immediately kicked into high gear and I tossed the cup and creamer onto the counter to rush and meet her. “Penelope, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”</p>
<p>I held onto her at arm’s length to look her up and down; she seemed to be in one piece, and I didn’t see any blood... She gave a sharp shake of her head, looked around to make sure we were alone, and then whispered in absolute disbelief, </p>
<p>“I got asked on a date!”</p>
<p>My jaw dropped and I gasped excitedly, giving a small jump as I clapped my hands together. My best friend got asked on a <i>date</i>! </p>
<p>“That’s great!... Wait, that’s great, right?” I backtracked at the look of confused panic she gave me. “It’s not great. Why isn’t that great?”</p>
<p>“I don’t get <i>why</i>. There has to be a reason and it’s freaking me out that I don’t know!” she fretted, shaking her head and looking to me for help. </p>
<p>“Oh, I know why,” I assured, and when her worried brows raised in question, I grinned and said, “it’s because you’re absolutely gorgeous, and some lucky guy couldn’t pass you up!”</p>
<p>Penelope was shaking her head before I’d even finished. “No, Aria, you don’t get it. It’s not just <i>any</i> guy. It’s Chris!” Chris… Chris…….. I tipped my head to the side in confusion and she added quickly, “first-floor hottie!”</p>
<p>I gave another excited gasp and she smacked my arm. “Ow! What? That’s <i>amazing</i>, Pen! You yourself named him a <i>chiseled Adonis hunk</i> –“</p>
<p>“Yes, he is! That’s the problem! He’s absolutely gorgeous, so why did he ask <i>me</i> out?!”</p>
<p>We both fell silent at her question and my heart instantly fell hearing the genuine question in her voice. She didn’t think she was good enough to be asked out by him. My face softened and I stepped up to Penelope, reaching up and cupping her face. </p>
<p>“Hey. There’s no question why he asked you out, Penny. You are so beautiful, <i>so</i> sweet and funny, you’re seriously <i>amazing</i>, and it’s clear Chris sees it just as easily as I do.”</p>
<p>Slowly, Penelope shook her head, and when she met my gaze I saw the honest pain in her eyes as she said softly, “this stuff doesn’t just <i>happen</i>. Not to me.”</p>
<p>“But it <i>did</i>,” I pointed out, wiggling my brows at her. And finally, slowly, the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Seeing the give in her reaction, I took her hand and tugged her over to the counter. As I started with the coffee again, I teased, “as your best friend, I need all the details. Right now.”</p>
<p>Penelope gave a soft giggle and sighed, leaning back against the counter beside me. </p>
<p>“Well…” she paused, and her small smile tugged up a little more. “He was at the coffee shop, and his computer was acting up. I fixed it for him and he just… he just asked to take me to lunch. Just like that.”</p>
<p><i>That</i> took me by surprise; keeping my expression neutral, I glanced to her. “He was at the coffee shop? The one on 4th and Wallace?” Pen nodded quickly and I pressed, “I didn’t know he went there too.”</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen him there before. He probably goes earlier than I do, but today it was just luck we were there at the same time.”</p>
<p>Luck… hmm. I pushed off the feeling of uncertainty and instead gave my best friend a wide smile. “Look at you, fixing computers and wooing gorgeous men before 8am.”</p>
<p>I expected to see her own smile growing, but instead she was staring at me just as apprehensive as before.</p>
<p>“Isn’t this moving kind of fast? Like, <i>way</i> too fast? One minute I’m getting my java, the next minute I’m getting a date. I mean, it <i>is</i> kind of weird that he was just <i>there</i> suddenly, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>With how insecure she was feeling, the last thing I wanted to do was crush her spirits. She’d picked me up so perfectly with Connor and my own self-doubt, she encouraged and supported me and my ridiculous crush on Reid… I wanted to do the same for her. I was just being paranoid; it was a bad habit from dating a narcissistic asshole. I’d be Penelope’s ray of optimistic sunshine, just like she was for me all the time. </p>
<p>As I gathered the drinks onto the tray – and tossed my Tupperware of apples and peanut butter on as well – I assured simply, “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe he usually goes in before you? Maybe after you? Maybe today was just the day everything aligned. It sounds to me like you really caught his eye, and he didn’t want this gorgeous wonder woman getting away from him –“</p>
<p>My words cut off as JJ and Morgan came practically jogging into the bullpen. JJ’s arms were full of files and the look on Morgan’s face had Penelope and I scrambling to follow them.</p>
<p>“Hotch called,” JJ said as she led us after Morgan to the conference room. The man himself was just slipping out of his office to follow our hasty precession. “We’ve got a bad one.”</p>
<p>“<i>How</i> bad?” I asked nervously as we slipped inside. JJ made a face as she sighed. </p>
<p>“Florida.”</p>
<p>Penelope and I shared a <i>yikes</i> face. As she peeled off to go to her lair, I said quickly, “hey. We’re not done with this, okay?”</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said softly, smile thankfully coming out before we went our separate ways. Rossi, Morgan, and Hotch settled at the table first as JJ and I went around the table, setting down drinks. I sat my drink to the right of Hotch, and then Reid’s beside me. </p>
<p>No, okay? I wasn’t just sitting his next to me because I wanted to sit with him. Reid liked being next to Morgan, <i>I</i> liked being by Hotch, and my only other option was sitting between Morgan and Rossi; between the two of them, my breakfast wouldn’t be safe.</p>
<p>This was just the most logical arrangement. So what if this particular seating choice had more benefits than just protecting my apples? </p>
<p>Just as JJ pulled up the case on the screen, Reid and Emily came skirting inside. Emily caught my eye and I nodded towards the seat across from me. She gave a wink of thanks and settled in as Reid circled to sit by me.  </p>
<p>“<i>Dobroye utro (good morning)</i>,” I whispered to him; even with the shoddy Russian pronunciation, Reid still grinned at my greeting. </p>
<p>“<i>Buongiorno (good morning)</i>,” he whispered back as he took a sip. He <i>hmm</i>’d and stood up again with his cup, moving for the table in the corner with the extra coffee-fixings. I watched in disbelief as he poured at least another two tablespoons into his drink. He took a sip, poured just a little more in, then came and sat back down. </p>
<p>“How the heck are <i>you</i> not diabetic?” Reid glanced at me like he had no idea what would’ve prompted that comment. “I don’t even think there’s enough coffee and creamer in there to dissolve all the sugar.”</p>
<p>He took another experimental sip and frowned. “It’s hardly sweetened!”</p>
<p>“You’re insane,” I giggled, shaking my head at him as I popped an apple slice in my mouth, turning to the front of the room as JJ announced, </p>
<p>“Bridgewater, Florida. Local girl, 19-year-old Abby Kelton left her parents’ home to go to the local junior college. She never came home.” I flipped to her picture in the file and grimaced seeing her lifeless eyes staring up at me. “Three days later, joggers found her – well, <i>part</i> of her – in a nearby park.”</p>
<p>Oh, god. Half of Abby was missing. </p>
<p>“What did <i>that</i> to her?” Emily asked warily. JJ sighed and said, </p>
<p>“Bridgewater is just off I-75, which is often referred to as ‘alligator alley’, for reasons that are now very apparent… her entire lower half was eaten.”</p>
<p>Her words registered with me just as I bit down on another apple slice; the crunch made my stomach churn. Instantly I slid the Tupperware away from me, dropping my head in my hand. I should’ve known better than to try and <i>eat</i> during a case briefing.</p>
<p>“Ah, the circle of life,” Rossi sighed, shaking his head as Reid and Morgan grimaced with me. Hotch was flipping through the file, and he paused on another picture of Abby. </p>
<p>“It’s safe to say the alligators didn’t cut off her fingers, slit her throat, or carve <i>this</i> into her chest.”</p>
<p>JJ hit the slide for the next picture, and all of us did a collective murmur of unease. Morgan lifted his copy of the picture from his file and said slowly, “an inverted pentagram?”</p>
<p>“Locals believe the killing was committed by a satanic cult,” JJ explained, and at this I turned to study the image as I asked idly, </p>
<p>“I thought killer satanic cults didn’t exist. They were debunked as a suburban myth, weren’t they?” Feeling eyes on me, I glanced over and saw Rossi smirking at me. “What?”</p>
<p>“Who do you think debunked them, kiddo?”</p>
<p>Giving him a smile, I went back to the file as Reid piped up, “cult or not, the killing was ritualized. Is this serial yet?”</p>
<p>“It will be soon if it isn’t already,” Hotch guaranteed. JJ paused behind Morgan and Reid as she looked around at us. </p>
<p>“What, so killer satanic cults don’t exist, but satanic serial killers do?”</p>
<p>Rossi gave a sigh as he sat up, tossing the case file to the table as he got to his feet. As he made to leave the conference room he called over his shoulder, “<i>Lasciate ogni Speranza ch’entrate.</i>”</p>
<p>I gave a snort at his morbid parting words as the rest of the team shared questioning looks. </p>
<p>“Thanks for clearing that up,” JJ mumbled, and as I went to answer, to my surprise, Reid told her, </p>
<p>“It’s Italian, from Dante’s Inferno.” The team all turned to him, and he glanced at me. At the same time the two of us translated, </p>
<p>“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.”</p>
<p>Morgan chuckled and said, “what, so I take it that’s a yes?”</p>
<p>“A big yes,” Hotch confirmed, getting up as well while the rest of us shared a morose glance between one another.  “Bridgewater PD needs us there as soon as possible. Wheels up in thirty.”</p>
<p>As the rest of us gathered our things – and I put the top decisively back onto my apples – Morgan skirted the table to come up to my side. I immediately held out the Tupperware to him. “They’re all yours. Satanic alligator murders just take my appetite away for some reason.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I came over for,” he began, and immediately snatched the container when I started to pull back. “But I ain’t complainin’. I actually just wanted to see if Garcia was okay. She didn’t look too happy out there.”</p>
<p>For a moment I thought about telling him about Penelope’s date, but if she was anything like me, she wouldn’t want me spreading that around. Actually, I had a better idea. I shrugged my shoulders and said simply, </p>
<p>“I can’t really go into it. But, if you’ve got a couple minutes, I bet she could really use a good Morgan pep talk.”</p>
<p>I’d meant for it to be <i>me</i> talking to her after the briefing, but something told me her <i>chocolate thunder</i> would be able to build up her self-esteem about this date. Morgan nodded in understanding and motioned to the hall that lead to Penelope’s office.</p>
<p>“Got it, Sunshine. I’ll meet you in the lobby in twenty, okay?”</p>
<p>Giving him a thumbs up, I followed the others back into the bullpen. At first, as I gathered my go-bag and purse, I didn’t even see the blinking red light on my desk phone. While I logged out of my computer, though, I caught the flashing out of the corner of my eye and I frowned. </p>
<p>A missed call? In the months I’d been here, <i>no one</i> had called my work phone. Well, except Morgan, but that was just to leave me messages. He knew the blinking light irritated me. No one had <i>legitimately</i> called me, though. Heck, I didn’t even have the ringer on (again, Morgan’s doing), which is why for several moments I didn’t realize the display had lit up – someone was calling <i>now</i>. </p>
<p>“Hello?” I answered hesitantly, half expecting Morgan to start laughing. </p>
<p>“<i>You should really answer your work phone before the fifth call. It’s very unprofessional to make me wait</i>,” Connor hummed, and chuckled as he heard my sharp gasp of alarm. “<i>What’s wrong, sugar</i>? <i>Miss me</i>?”</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure if <i>pleased</i> was the right word, but I was definitely satisfied to realize fear wasn’t my first reaction to his voice. It was pure, unfiltered fury. First my cell phone, now my <i>work</i> phone?! How’d he even get this number? <i>I</i> didn’t even know it!</p>
<p>“You need to fuck <i>straight</i> off,” I hissed. He laughed and went to talk again, but after this morning, I <i>really</i> wasn’t in the mood today. “I’m serious. Don’t ever call me again.”</p>
<p>I hung up instantly after and then went a step further in disconnecting the phone cord. For several moments I glared at the phone, mind at war with what I was feeling. I was definitely thrilled that I didn’t automatically clam up and panic… but all that told me was I was getting used to <i>Skeevy JerkFace</i> again. Which meant I was talking to him <i>way</i> more than I wanted to. </p>
<p>I was so caught up in trying to sort through the emotions flitting through my mind that I hadn’t noticed Reid at my side at first. Actually, I didn’t notice him until I turned to grab my go-bag off the chair and instead came face-to-face with the handsome doctor himself. He had my bag in his hand and a frown of concern on his face. </p>
<p>“Who was that?” </p>
<p>Okay, I knew I’d made a decision to come clean about Connor, but I’d <i>specifically</i> decided to do so after work. And with a case just starting – a case with a <i>satanic serial killer</i>, nonetheless – I didn’t think bringing up my asshole ex was the thing to do right now. </p>
<p>That was my excuse for chickening out, and I was sticking with it. </p>
<p>“Telemarketer,” I lied with a shrug. He slowly looked down at the unplugged phone, then back up to me, brow raised. “I… really don’t like being solicited.”</p>
<p>“I can see that,” he assured, the twitch of a small, amused smile flickering across his face as he handed me my bag. Well fell into step, heading out of the bullpen together, and as we went he asked softly, “are you sure that’s all it is, though?”</p>
<p>Darn his brilliant, profiling brain. When I looked up at him, I saw those soft chocolate eyes peeking down at me full of genuine concern. </p>
<p>“Why wouldn’t it be?” I replied before thinking through my answer. He’d know the classic tell of avoiding an answer, <i>come on</i> Aria! Apparently lying under duress wasn’t a skill of mine… I didn’t blame Reid for seeing right through me; his brows drew into a frown. </p>
<p>“You’ve been taking a lot of phone calls recently that leave you looking upset, and I don’t think it’s simply because of unwanted sales attempts,” he argued gently. We paused by the elevator and as I hit the button – as if getting onto the elevator would get me out of having to fess up – he added, “if something’s wrong, you… we’re friends. You can talk to me.”</p>
<p>I didn’t want to lie to him. We <i>were</i> friends and it felt wrong hiding something from him when he clearly knew that’s what I was doing. He had no idea how badly I wanted to open up to him and tell him what was going on. And I <i>would</i>, I really would, but this was just the exactly wrong time. My hands began to toy with the hem of my skirt and his eyes followed the movement. He had to know it was a nervous habit by now, which did nothing to help my pitiful attempt to hide the truth. </p>
<p>“I just – you know, with the case,” I began, not having a clue where I was going with this, still undecided on if I was dead-set about not lying to him. “It’s… you know, I just – there’s a lot going on –“</p>
<p>“Aria!”</p>
<p>Oh thank <i>god</i> for Penelope! I glanced over and saw her desperately waving me over. I jerked my thumb down the hall as I not-so-subtly edged away from the conversation. “I’ll see you on the plane, okay?”</p>
<p>Reid actually took a step after me, reaching out in a silent request to stop, clearly not wanting to leave our conversation here. Before he could actually come after me though, the elevator dinged and he hesitated. Penelope called my name again, and with a heavy sigh he dropped his arm. </p>
<p>“Alright,” he murmured, finally turning away and getting on the elevator. I pushed down the guilt welling up inside me. As soon as the case was over I could fill him in on everything, and I hoped he’d understand. Right now though, I had a much more pressing situation to deal with. </p>
<p>I whirled and scampered down the hall to Penelope, asking eagerly, </p>
<p>“Hey! Did Morgan talk to you?”</p>
<p>“I’m not going out with Chris,” she told me decisively, shaking her head. At the admittedly shocked expression I gave she quickly explained, “Morgan just confirmed what I was thinking. It’s just too weird. Chris too smooth, he’s too <i>smokin’ hot</i> for me – this just isn’t right. I’m not going on the date.”</p>
<p>I was gonna <i>kill</i> Morgan. I knew I made that threat at least twice a day, but I really meant it this time. The little confidence I’d managed to build up this morning, he’d destroyed in less than ten minutes. That had to be a record.</p>
<p>“Penny, no. Hey. Whatever Morgan said, just ignore him –“</p>
<p>“He told me to trust my gut, and my gut’s saying that Chris asking me out is just too good to be true.”</p>
<p>Sternly, I took her shoulders and pulled her closer, shaking my head. “No. No it’s not. You’re just nervous and flustered, and you’re psyching yourself out. Okay? He asked you out because he <i>likes</i> you, not for anything else. Don’t let yourself – <i>or</i> Morgan – talk you out of this. You are a beautiful, sweet, smart, <i>smokin’ hot</i> computer genius.” She still didn’t look convinced, so I added, “it’s my turn to be <i>your</i> ‘seeing-eye-friend’, and I’ll tell you right now that the reason Chris asked you out is because he sees all the things I do. He sees you for your beautiful self, Penelope, and I don’t want you backing out just because you don’t see yourself the way you should be seen.”</p>
<p>Despite all I’d said, there was still that lingering hint of doubt in her gaze. It had really gotten to her, what Morgan had said. She truly valued his opinion and to hear him basically shut her down about her date… </p>
<p>“You should probably head down, I’m sure the others are waiting for you,” Penelope hinted, and I stifled a sigh. Man, I <i>really</i> wished we hadn’t gotten a case today. I’d been dying to get back out with everyone after my break for school, but today was seriously the <i>worst</i> timing. </p>
<p>“Alright. I’m going. But hey, do me a favor,” I asked her, letting my hold slide down her arms. Before I pulled away, my hands took hers and I gave a gentle squeeze. “Promise me you’ll at least <i>think</i> about going out with him. Okay?”</p>
<p>Penelope hesitated, and instead of replying, she stepped up and pulled me into a tight hug. I smiled into her shoulder as she said softly, “thank you, my sweet little summer flower. You be safe, okay?”</p>
<p>“Of course, mama bear,” I assured as we stepped apart. “I’ll text you as soon as we’re done going over the case, alright?”</p>
<p>“I’ll eagerly await your texts,” she teased, blowing me a kiss as she backed down the hall towards her lair. I mimed catching it and tucking it into my pocket, getting a giggle out of both of us before we turned and hurried off our separate ways. </p>
<p>As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, though, the smile faded from my face and irritation at Morgan spiked. I hiked my go-bag onto my shoulder, and as soon as the doors open I stalked through the lobby, heading through the building towards the tarmac. </p>
<p>I hadn’t expected to run into anyone, seeing as they’d gone down a bit before. In fact, I could see the others across the way, already boarding the jet. Morgan though had hung back, just a few steps ahead, paused and waiting for me. </p>
<p>He knew damn well I’d talked with Penelope.  </p>
<p>“Woah, woah, woah,” Morgan said quickly at the look on my face, throwing his hands up and moving out of hitting distance as I approached. Smart man. “Ay, before you even start, I was just lookin’ out for her, okay?”</p>
<p>“You told her it was too good to be true,” I snapped at him, temper flaring. He gave a heavy sigh and shook his head as we started towards the jet, still keeping himself out of arm’s reach. </p>
<p>“No I didn’t. I said she needed to trust her gut –“</p>
<p>“And right now her gut’s telling her that she’s not good enough to be asked out! She was already doubting herself –“ I started, and Morgan reached out to take hold of my elbow. We were nearly to the jet and he steered me aside to give us a little privacy.</p>
<p>“Sunshine, listen. I know you’re just lookin’ out for her, but I am too. I love Garcia and <i>because</i> I love her, safety comes first above all else. I can’t turn off bein’ a profiler, and what she told me about this morning just doesn’t sit well with me. You really think it just so happens his computer freaked out <i>right</i> when Garcia arrived?”</p>
<p>“Maybe that’s just his technique for asking her out,” I argued, arms crossing over my chest, ignoring the fact that this was the exact doubt I’d had when she first told me. “How’s this any different from you leaving your wallet at that bakery the other day so the pretty girl working the register had to call you?”</p>
<p>“Okay, that’s not the same,” he started, and instantly I challenged, </p>
<p>“Why? Because Penelope’s not the kind of girl to get attention like that?” </p>
<p>Morgan pressed his lips together and shook his head. “That’s not what I’m sayin’ at all, and you know it. You’re protective of her, and now you’re feelin’ defensive. I get that, but just take a step back and think about this. What does <i>your</i> gut tell you about the situation?”</p>
<p>Instantly I went back to that flicker of doubt in the hollow of my chest. It <i>didn’t</i> sit right with me, and I had a feeling it wasn’t just because of Connor.  Though I didn’t answer him, I knew Morgan saw the uncertainty in my eyes, and he stepped up to give my shoulder a squeeze. </p>
<p>“If I’m alone on this and you’re totally convinced there’s nothin’ off about him, if you genuinely feel alright about it all, then hey. Encourage her. Talk her up, build up that confidence, back her on it,” he insisted. As I went to reply, he added softly, “But if you’re with me, if you feel like somethin’s off, no matter how small, Sunshine, don’t ignore your gut. Don’t let Penelope ignore her gut. Take a step back and think about this completely removed instead of as her friend. She <i>can</i> pull guys easily, no matter what she thinks. She’s beautiful, and she’s a catch, so there’s no reason for her to settle for anything less than what she deserves, <i>especially</i> if it’s her safety we’re talkin’ about, alright?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay,” I said just as quietly, giving a tiny nod. He gave one more squeeze and used his hold on me to turn me around, nudging me towards the plane. We dropped the conversation as we boarded the jet; as we waited for takeoff, I let my mind wander. </p>
<p>Was it just my own paranoia with Connor that had me doubting this guy’s motives? Chris had seemed sweet enough, but I’d only talked to him for a couple minutes. For all I knew he could be a closeted psychopath… </p>
<p><i>She basically ran a background check on the guy</i>, I argued to myself, remembering the rundown she’d given me the night I opened up about Reid. <i>If she thought he was safe enough for me to date, why would it be any different with her</i>?</p>
<p>It wouldn’t be. Penelope had done the research for me, she’d looked into him and basically cleared him as dateable. No one dug up information like Penelope Garcia, and if he hadn’t set off a single of her ten thousand red flag alarms it meant there was no reason to doubt him. </p>
<p>I’d be her confidence, just like she was doing for me. I knew Morgan had a point, but I mean, with the job we did, we saw the worst of humanity. We were about to go deal with a <i>satanic serial killer</i> for crying out loud. Wasn’t it just instinct to automatically think the worse of strangers with the things we dealt with every day?</p>
<p>We had to be overthinking this, that’s all it was. Chris worked for the FBI. Penelope didn’t find an issue with him, and all it boiled down to was a date. One date. No relationship, no life-long commitment, just a meal with a cute guy. </p>
<p>What could go wrong?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I also hope you enjoyed this chapter! This is kicking off some major things happening over the next few episodes/chapters, so I hope you're ready for this rollercoaster! I'm eager to hear your thoughts on Connor, and Aria's decisions on telling the team about him, and her decision to support Penelope about the date! </p>
<p>I LOVED hearing your thoughts last chapter, so if you have time to do so I'd love to hear your feedback again as well! Also, don't worry! There will be a LOT more non-episode chapters and more of Spencer's POV coming up, I appreciate you guys giving your opinions on that as well! &lt;3</p>
<p>I hope you all have a beautiful week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Shadow of a Doubt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the briefing on the plane, the case didn’t seem as daunting as it had at first. Sure, the whole <i>satanic serial killer</i> thing still rubbed me the wrong way, but thankfully the rest of the team was with me on that. With all of us braced for the creepy and insane, I felt ready to take on this disturbed UnSub.</p><p>What I <i>hadn’t</i> been prepared for was walking in and seeing only half of a body lying on the exam table. Granted, Abby – well, what was <i>left</i> of Abby – was covered by a sheet, but that really only helped so much. The sheet sat flat halfway down her torso, a vivid reminder that the rest of her was being digested by ruthless Florida swamp cats as we spoke. </p><p>Reid caught my eye as I let my gaze wander around the coroner’s office, attempting to avoid looking at Abby as much as I could. His lips quirked up into a small smile, his timid offer of comfort. I returned it with a thankful one of my own as the coroner stepped into the room. </p><p>Hotch, who’d been studying the remains without the faintest hint of discomfort, glanced up as Dr. Fulton explained, </p><p>“Abby’s car was found at a gas station near her home, no sign’a foul play. From the looks of it, the gators got her sometime durin’ the night.” I couldn’t help the face I pulled at the thought. “Plus, looks like her nose was broken about forty-eight hours before that.”</p><p>“That was about the time of the abduction, right?” I asked, glancing back and catching Hotch’s gaze. He gave a swift nod and confirmed, </p><p>“The UnSub must’ve taken her in a blitz attack.”</p><p>Reid, across from me, stepped up and leaned over the body, idly tapping his chin as he asked, “what was the cause of death, exactly?”</p><p>“Cut to her throat,” Dr. Fulton explained, flipping through his notes. “’Bout eight hours prior to the discovery of the body.”</p><p>A question popped into my mind, and I knew I’d have to look at Abby. God, I really didn’t want to, but come on. I was a profiler. A professional. Eventually I’d have to learn to stomach this stuff, so why not start now? I stepped forward like Reid had and – religiously avoiding looking anywhere south of her torso – I examined the marks on her chest, then her throat. They had the same jagged edge, the same depth… they were at least done by the same tool, and presumably the same person.  </p><p>“What about the pentagram?” I asked, looking back to the coroner. “Did they mark her before the kill?”</p><p>“No ma’am. That was postmortem,” Dr. Fulton informed me. “Now, as for her fingers…”</p><p>Ah, yes. All ten fingers had been cut off at the knuckles; another reason not to look at the lower part of her remains. Dr. Fulton gave an unexpectedly troubled sigh and the three of us looked up at him. This wasn’t gonna be good.</p><p>“What about them?” Hotch prompted; I almost wished he hadn’t. </p><p>“I was unsure when they were removed at first… ‘till I found this.” He reached back, grabbed a bowl, and sat it on the table next to Abby’s head. Alright, I knew better than to look. I lifted my eyes again, focusing on the cut of Reid’s jaw, the way his brow furrowed as he leaned down to look into the bowl instead… yeah, definitely a good distraction.</p><p>“The… her fingers were found in her <i>stomach</i>? And they were…” he began, mouth opening and closing before he looked up in mild alarm. Whatever they were, I had a feeling it was <i>really</i> not good. Especially not paired with the grim frown that had taken over Hotch’s face. </p><p>“The condition of the fingers indicates they were fed to her just before her death.”</p><p>The room fell into disturbed silence, the three of us exchanging looks of disgust. Dr. Fulton looked between us, clearing his throat as he thankfully took the bowl of fingers away. <i>I really hate that’s a sentence that makes sense in my line of work</i>, I groaned to myself.</p><p>“I’ll call y’all if anything else comes up with the autopsy,” Dr. Fulton promised, <i>finally</i> ushering us towards the exit. I couldn’t escape that exam room fast enough; Reid was right on my heels. </p><p>We all piled wordlessly into the SUV, and for several miles none of us talked. Finally, though, the question at the top of my mind was burning too bright to be avoided any longer. I shifted to sit in the center of the backseat and I leaned forward between Hotch and Reid. </p><p>“So… he fed Abby her –“ I cleared my throat as Reid thankfully nodded, acknowledging my attempt so I didn’t actually have to finish that sentence. “Does that mean cannibalism is on the table now too?”</p><p>Hotch shook his head. <i>Thank God</i>. “Not just yet. There’s a possibility, but cannibalism in crimes within America isn’t all that common, so it’s not something we should focus on just yet.”</p><p>“Besides the well-known case with Jeffrey Dahmer, there have only been a handful of cases involving cannibalism in the last fifteen years,” Reid piped up, launching into one of his fact-dumps that I couldn’t get enough of. Regardless of the morbid topic, his rambling still soothed me. “In fact, there are only four listed incidents of cannibalism-related crimes in the United States since 1990. What’s even more interesting is that in the U.S., there aren’t any laws against cannibalism <i>per se</i>, though all states have enacted laws that indirectly make it impossible to legally obtain and consume body matter. The United States isn’t alone in this, either. There are actually several prominent countries that haven’t outlawed cannibalism. In fact –“</p><p>“Reid,” Hotch sighed, giving the doctor in the passenger’s seat a heavy side-eye. Reid instantly pressed his lips together, giving a small bob of his head. Though admittedly the topic wasn’t great, I’d been hanging on every word. I loved hearing him get lost in his facts and trivia, even when it got as grisly at this. </p><p>I gave his arm a squeeze in thanks as I settled back in my seat. “So what’s with the fingers, then? Is it a signature?”</p><p>“It could be,” Hotch hummed as we pulled into the station’s parking lot. As Reid and I hopped out and joined him on the walk to the building, he added, “it could also be at attempted countermeasure of sorts.”</p><p>“What could he be trying to hide by feeding Abby her own fingers?” Reid asked, again sparing me from having to say that sentence out loud; I still shuddered, regardless. Hotch just shook his head, holding the door to usher us into the station. </p><p>“I’m not sure. Hopefully as we piece together the profile we’ll uncover that motive,” he explained. Reid nodded in agreement, and as we made for the conference room where the others were gathered, Hotch’s hand settled on my arm to stop me. “Aria, a moment?”</p><p>Reid gave me a small parting wave as he skirted past us, and I turned to follow Hotch to a quiet corner. I looked up at him curiously and he took a moment to study my face. His normal hardened work-scowl softened as he asked gently, “how are you doing with all this?”</p><p>A little surprised at his seemingly unprovoked concern, I gave a small shrug and offered a smile. “Honestly, it’s not that bad. I mean, the fingers are just…” I pulled a face and shook my head. “But I’m alright.”</p><p>For another couple of moments, he continued to monitor my expression before finally telling me, “if that changes, I want you to let me know.”</p><p>“Of course,” I promised him, and gently nudged his arm with mine as I asked, “what’s this about? Did I look a little too peaky at the coroner’s office?”</p><p>“A little. But that’s to be expected,” he dismissed. “Cases like this can get under your skin without you realizing it. Whether you’re religious or not, the presence of satanic elements can affect even the most experienced investigators, and we’re not immune. If at any point this gets to be too much or something genuinely bothers you, you should tell myself or one of the team right away. I don’t want this troubling you more than it’ll end up doing.”</p><p>As always, Hotch was stepping up to take care of me. In response, I smiled and stepped forward, slipping my arms around his waist and giving him a tight squeeze. For half a heartbeat I swore I heard him chuckle as he patted my back before we stepped apart. </p><p>“I take it that was an acknowledgement?” he asked, brow raising. I gave a nod. </p><p>“That was a two-for-one acknowledgement-plus-<i>thanks-for-looking-out-for-me</i> hug,” I informed him, backing for the conference room. “If I get too squicked, I promise you’ll be the first I come vomiting to.”</p><p>Hotch’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. “That’s all I ask of you.”</p><p>Snorting and rolling my eyes, I turned and trotted off to the conference room. Reid must’ve filled the others in about Abby already because Emily, Morgan, and Rossi were gathered at the table, all in various levels of revulsion. </p><p>“I know the locals think this was some kids messing around with taboo Satanist crap, but there’s no way this was just a group of teens obsessed with devil worship of the occult,” Morgan pointed out as I slipped inside. </p><p>“It’s a serial killer,” Rossi confirmed, and he glanced at me as I hopped up to sit on the table next to Emily. “Reid said you confirmed the pentagram was postmortem, correct?”</p><p>“Right,” I agreed, bobbing my head as Reid did the same from his spot leaning against the wall across from me. “Is that a good thing?... if anything about this can be considered <i>good</i>…”</p><p>Rossi eased back in the chair, folding his hands over his stomach as he gave a slow nod. “As good as it can get. It at least confirms the kill wasn’t done as a sacrifice, or as part of a ritual. In most satanic ceremonies, bodies being used would be marked <i>before</i> death, not after.”</p><p>“So we’ve just got a possibly-satanic serial killer to deal with,” Morgan sighed as Emily added, </p><p>“Considering what he did with the fingers, clearly a sadistic one.” Though I nodded in agreement, the guys around us all shook their heads; Emily scoffed. “Okay. He cut off her fingers and he made her eat them. One of you explain how that’s anything <i>but</i> sadistic.”</p><p>“If it was sadistic, that would be the only bit of sadism present in the crime,” Reid piped up with a shrug. “If he was a sadist, there would have been more signs of torture antemortem.”</p><p>“I think it’s a message,” Rossi added, and instantly I frowned. Hotch had said it could be a signature, or even a way to cover up something in the crime, but… Rossi caught my frown and he bumped against my swinging leg with his knee. “What’re you thinkin’, kiddo?”</p><p>“I mean… what kind of message could the UnSub be trying to send with the fingers?”</p><p>“<i>She’s not my first</i>,” Hotch said, and all five of our heads swiveled to him as he stepped into the conference room. He looked around to each one of us, the grimace on his face deepening. “Dr. Fulton just called, he finished examining the contents of Abby’s stomach. None of the fingers were hers, and six of them were index fingers.”</p><p>Oh <i>no</i>. Morgan and Reid physically recoiled at the words and Rossi matched Hotch’s disgusted frown with one of his own. Emily, JJ, and I glanced at one another as the weight of what Hotch had just said settled onto our shoulders. </p><p>That meant, besides Abby, there were at <i>least</i> six other victims, and Abby had been fed body parts that weren’t her own. I <i>really</i> hadn’t thought that whole thing could’ve gotten any worse, and somehow – <i>unfortunately</i> – I’d been proved wrong. </p><p>--</p><p>Scratch that. I’d been proved <i>very</i> wrong. While our group had been backtracking Abby Kenton’s last known locations before her murder, Penelope had been hard at work figuring out who the fingers in her stomach had belonged to. </p><p>“Garcia sent the last location,” Emily announced, skirting into the conference room with another page in hand. Reid was busy marking the previous address she’d found, so I reached back and took the paper for him. </p><p>There were ten other victims total. Ten. Not one finger in Abby’s stomach had been hers – and not one finger had matched. Again, I grimaced at my own thoughts. Today was just chalk-full of sentences that made unfortunate, creepy sense for our profession. Color me disgustedly unimpressed with that.  </p><p>“What’s the next location?” Reid asked me, looking back over his shoulder. His eyes caught the light just right, giving them a honey-brown glow that momentarily scattered the coherent thoughts right out of my mind. After a beat of silence – full of me staring up at him, completely enraptured – he blinked and prompted, “Aria?”</p><p>“Oh, um,” I scrambled, hurriedly looking down at the sheet and willing my brain to remember how to process words and numbers again. There was a barely-suppressed giggle of amusement from the table and I threw a narrow-eyed glare at JJ. “What was that?”</p><p>“Nothing, nothing,” she snickered; I didn’t miss the smirk she shared with Emily. When I finally figured out what Reid had asked, I looked back to him and paused. He was studying the girls with a curious expression, clearly trying to piece together the exchange that had just happened. </p><p>Oh god. He and his giant profiling brain could probably deduce that in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Quickly, I cleared my throat and said to him, “this one’s just south of Bridgewater, near Wesley Chapel.”</p><p>Having been pulled from his thoughts, Reid’s head swiveled to me and he blinked while processing my words. “Oh, right. What’s the address?”</p><p>I rattled it off to him, and when he poked the tenth and final thumbtack into the map, he stepped back to stand at my side. The two of us studied our work, and at the same time I made a noise of realization, Reid turned to the others. </p><p>“We have a pattern.”</p><p>Emily, JJ, Rossi, and Hotch all instantly snapped their gazes to the map. There was a beat of silence where they took in what we’d put together, and then Hotch was pushing to his feet. </p><p>“We’re ready to deliver the profile. I’ll gather the station for briefing. JJ, Emily, start calling the families. We’ll need to talk with them as soon as possible. Rossi, Reid, grab the files on the other missing women. Now that we have a pattern we can go back and ensure we haven’t missed anything crucial.”</p><p>Our group broke apart wordlessly at Hotch’s orders, the others skirting this way and that to start on the tasks assigned. I turned to look up at our unit chief, meeting his gaze in question, knowing there was a reason he hadn’t said my name. </p><p>“I’d like you to give the profile with Morgan and I,” he told me, and instantly I tensed at the thought of doing so. He caught the movement – because of <i>course</i> he did – and added, “I think this time will be less daunting for you. The station is much smaller, and the officers are much more open to our assistance.”</p><p>Though I nodded, I couldn’t ignore my own apprehension. “I just… you’re sure you want me up there too? I’m not an agent –“</p><p>“You’re part of the team,” Hotch said simply, instantly getting a smile on my face. “With your progression in your classes – and with you nearing the end of your schooling – you’re more than capable of going over a profile with us. Especially seeing as you helped put it together.”</p><p>It was amazing how easily Hotch could inspire me and settle my self-doubt. His unwavering support and belief in my abilities instantly put my own uncertainties to rest, and I found myself eager to prove him right, to show him I was capable of what he believed I could do. Sure, I might be terrified being in front of everyone, but if Hotch believed in me, I could do it.</p><p>“Count me in, then,” I told him, earning a small smile in return as he gave me a swift nod. </p><p>“Morgan’s in one of the spare offices,” he told me, nodding across the lobby. “I’ll meet you both in about ten minutes.”</p><p>“Roger that, boss-man,” I teased, giving him a wink as I left to grab the last member of our team. </p><p>It was clear something was wrong the moment I stepped into the office. Morgan’s back was to me, his shoulders tense and head hung down just a hint. His phone was in his hand, still open like he’d just hung up a call, and his thumb tapped idly on the keypad. He was deep in his thoughts, and they didn’t seem to be very pleasant. </p><p>“Hey, Mr. Clean,” I teased, coming up beside him. Morgan peeked up at me for a heartbeat but dropped his gaze almost immediately after. </p><p>“Hey.” Well, that was lackluster. Frowning, I went to press if he was alright, but he cut in quickly with, “uh, Garcia just ID’d ten victims.”</p><p>Frowning at the tone of his voice, I told him, “yeah. She actually just finished sending us the files, and we’ve got a pattern from the last known locations of the victims.”</p><p>Morgan looked up and I jerked my head towards the map that Reid had just wheeled out to the lobby. He studied the work we’d done and he looked up at me in surprise. </p><p>“Wait. Seriously?” I gave a quick nod. “Has Hotch seen this?”</p><p>“<i>Oh</i> yeah. He’s setting up the profile briefing as we speak. You and I are gonna help him deliver it. You game?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you out there, Sunshine.”</p><p>He dropped his gaze again, clearly expecting me to take his answer and leave, but I wasn’t. I wouldn’t, not when something was clearly wrong. I stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. What’s wrong?”</p><p>He gave a heavy sigh, slumping back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes in frustration. His hands fell to his lap, and finally he tipped his head back to meet my worried gaze. “Look. I don’t – I don’t even really know what just happened. Things were said, Garcia took something the wrong way…”</p><p>“What happened?” I asked instantly, moving to perch on the table in front of him. He studied my face for several moments, like he was trying to decide whether or not he should tell me. Giving a small smile, I pointed out, “you and I both know I’m gonna end up talking to her about this anyway. Let me hear your side of it.”</p><p>Morgan pressed his lips together, but I saw the give in his expression. He scrubbed a heavy hand down his face and finally he sat up. “She’s stuck on this notion that I don’t want her datin’ this guy because I don’t think she’s attractive enough for him. That’s not it at all. She’s gorgeous, she can easily get guys ten times better than whatever this <i>Adonis</i> looks like. But I can’t turn off my instincts. This doesn’t sit right with me and she refuses to see past her assumptions, an’ I’m afraid it’s gonna get her hurt.”</p><p>At the way he looked up at me, I knew exactly what Morgan wanted. He was expecting me to agree with him, take his side, assure that he wasn’t overreacting and that that Chris couldn’t be trusted. But, with all Penelope was feeling around this – and my innate loyalty to my best friend – I couldn’t just side with him and leave her alone. </p><p>“I can talk to her about it,” I offered, giving him a small smile. Instantly I saw the spark of frustration in his dark eyes; he knew I was avoiding taking his side. Before either of us could delve deeper into this, though, my phone started ringing. </p><p>Penelope. </p><p>Morgan caught my expression and he nodded in understanding. Getting to his feet, he rested a hand on my shoulder and said simply, “you’ve got a couple minutes. I’ll let you know when we gotta start.”</p><p>My hand rested on top of his briefly before he pulled away, and once he stepped out of the room I answered her call. “Hey, Penny –“</p><p>“Morgan is <i>such</i> a jerk!” she huffed instantly. Oh boy, this was gonna go swimmingly... “I told him that Chris called and asked me out, right? I say that I took his advice and blew him off. And you know what he says? You know what he tells me?”</p><p>“What did he –“</p><p>“He goes, ‘<i>Good. Smart move. Something was definitely wrong with him.</i>’ Like, he can tell how wrong this guy was just from what little I told him?!”</p><p>“Pen, you know he didn’t mean it like –“</p><p>“Is it that he’s just too handsome for someone like me?” she bit out, giving a bitter laugh. Behind the bravado of her anger, though, I heard the small break in her voice. Heard the genuine hurt coming through the front she was trying to put up. “Or – or that he was too interested in me? Because clearly I’m just not someone worth a cute guy’s time –“</p><p>“Hey,” I cut in gently when her words hitched again as she tried to hold back tears I knew were coming. “It’s nothing like that. Morgan’s just – he’s trying to look out for you. And you and I both know sometimes he’s not the most graceful with his words, but he doesn’t –”</p><p>“He basically told me I’m not good enough for someone like Chris,” she whispered; I heard a sniff, and the <i>shff</i> of tissues being pulled out of the box. My heart restricted hearing the genuine pain in her voice. “I… all my life, I’ve been made fun of and put down and you know, I’ve gotten past that. I know people are just cruel, and that I have a lot to offer. But it just – it really <i>hurts</i> having Morgan turn out to be just like everyone else.”</p><p>The officers were gathering quickly, and I could see Hotch and Morgan preparing to go into the profile. I didn’t have a lot of time, so I had to drive the point home quickly. “Tell me this. Did Morgan actually <i>say</i> all that? Did he tell you he didn’t think you’re not good enough? Or that you didn’t deserve him?”</p><p>She was quiet for a few moments, and reluctantly mumbled, “I mean, not in those words…”</p><p>“So, is it safe to say that you might’ve been feeling a little defensive, and when he unintentionally poked at a sensitive spot you lashed out?” She didn’t reply, giving me the answer. Hotch caught my eye from across the lobby and he beckoned me to him; the conversation would have to be tabled for now. “Penny, listen to me. Morgan’s not saying you aren’t worthy of Chris. He’s just a profiler who’s been trained to look at the worst possible outcome of things and he’s being protective of you. He’s just not really being as eloquent as he should be.”</p><p>She gave a small sniff and asked me, “do you agree with him?”</p><p>Of course she’d ask me the one question I really, genuinely didn’t know how to answer. So, instead of giving her a straight reply, I diverted with, “Chris clearly likes you. Not only did he give you his number, he actually called you himself to ask you out. That tells me he really is interested in you, whether you want to believe it or not. If you won’t listen to what I’m <i>saying</i>, then look at what Chris is <i>showing</i> you.”</p><p>“Okay,” she said softly, and then she cleared her throat and repeated a little more firmly, “okay. Yeah. You know what? You know – I’m gonna call him back. I’m gonna… I’m just gonna go for it. You’re right. He likes me, and I shouldn’t let Morgan put me down.”</p><p>Hotch motioned for me again; I really had to go, but I didn’t want to hang up. Even though I was happy to hear the tears subsiding on her end, I wasn’t thrilled with the outcome. I mean, her confidence was growing and that’s what I wanted, but now the thought of her actually confirming a date… the worry that Morgan had planted in my mind back in Quantico was still there. </p><p>Part of me knew he had a point, and part of me agreed: the thought of her going out with a guy that had slipped into her life so quickly unsettled me. And as much as I wanted to say, <i>you know what, let’s not go on a date with him just yet</i>, I couldn’t bring myself to break her down. Morgan had already made her feel like he was against her, and I didn’t want to do the same thing. I didn’t want her feeling alone. </p><p>“Good, do it,” I encouraged before I’d fully thought out my reply. I actually winced at my own words, but it was too late to take them back. “Hey, I gotta go, but we’ll talk about this later, okay?”</p><p>“Alrighty. Go be the amazing profiler you are,” she told me, smile clear in her voice. As we went to hang up, she added, “Aria? I just… thank you. Really. Having you support me… I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”</p><p>The raw appreciation in her voice took me off-guard, and for a moment it shoved the uncertainty right out of my mind. Maybe I wasn’t totally gung-ho about this date, but if it made her happy, who was I to get in the way? </p><p>“I always will. Love you, Penny G,” I teased, smiling as she giggled and said sweetly, </p><p>“Love you too, honeybee.”</p><p>As nervous as I felt about giving the profile, I was honestly glad I had something to take my mind off the whole Chris-and-Penelope thing. I was torn between supporting my best friend and giving into my doubts about this somewhat-stranger pursuing her, and for the first time all week I could say I was glad we had this crazy case to distract me. </p><p>Hotch gave me a nod as I scampered up to the board, ready to start. Though the instant nerves at being in front of a crowd rose up, I did my best to shove them down. Hotch believed in me, and he was right: I was trained for this. I knew exactly what to do. <i>I could do this.</i></p><p>“Abby Kelton and ten others were murdered by a serial killer… right here in Bridgewater,” Hotch announced, dropping the bombshell we’d discovered. All the officers in front of us – Detective Jordan included – made noises of surprise and began murmuring with one another. </p><p>“Here?” the detective asked in disbelief. “How can you be sure? Not one of ‘em were found here, or taken from here –“</p><p>“These marks on the map represent where the first ten women disappeared,” Hotch explained, nodding to the board at my side. He caught my eye and gave a small nod. I’d done the mapping with Reid, and I knew exactly what we’d found; I knew exactly what to say. </p><p>“This void in the center?” I pointed out, tapping the open spot in the ring of thumbtacks, right where Abby’s picture was, “this is his safety zone. He’s been avoiding killing here – near where we now know is his home –  to escape detection. Bridgewater is in the center of this void. Abducting and now killing Abby Kelton here was him telling us where to look.”</p><p>“But that’d mean he <i>wants</i> us to find him,” Detective Jordan pressed, more confused than argumentative. “Why would he go and violate his safety zone? That tells us right where to look for him. Why’d he do that if he was gettin’ away with murder?”</p><p>“Because we didn’t know he existed,” Morgan spoke up, pacing in front of the board between Hotch and I. “He wanted us to know about him. It’s why he left us the fingers. To show us all he’s done so far.”</p><p>Detective Jordan nodded slowly, and then looked between the three of us. “If he wants us to know, does he want us to catch him?”</p><p>“No,” I started, and looked back to Hotch for confirmation that I could take this one. He gave just the hint of a smile to assure me it was alright; I turned back to the Detective and jumped into what we’d profiled. “Each kill has given him a rush of power, but with each one it’s become less and less. It’s not enough anymore to simply kill and get away with it. Having us know what he’s done, what he’s capable of? Knowing that, even with revealing his kills, we still can’t catch him? That’s giving him even more power than the kills themselves.”</p><p>“He won’t stop,” Hotch added, arms crossing over his chest. “At this point, he’ll keep going until we <i>force</i> him to stop, and it’s clear he’s just getting started.”</p><p>As the officers around us murmured in unease, Detective Jordan’s phone began to ring. He tugged it out and frowned at the caller ID. Hotch, Morgan, and I all shared a hesitant glance; this wasn’t gonna be good. </p><p>“Detective Jordan…” as he listened to the person on the other end, his face fell. Yeah, confirmed. It was <i>really</i> not good. “Yeah… Yeah, I got it.”</p><p>He hung up with a heavy sigh and turned to face us again. “Look’s like you’re right, Agent Hotchner. He really is just gettin’ started.”</p><p>--</p><p>Tracey Lambert had been missing for nearly eighteen hours.</p><p>Since the moment Detective Jordan had gotten the call yesterday, he and his officers had been scouring the woods she’d told her roommate she was hiking through. So far, though, they hadn’t come across anything, and our timeframe for finding her alive was dwindling with each moment that passed. </p><p>Hopefully, though, Rossi and I had found something useful at Tracey’s abduction site. The hike up the trail to where Hotch and Morgan were searching Tracey’s abandoned jeep had been parked was a short one. By the looks on their faces I had a feeling they’d made about as much headway as Detective Jordan had so far. </p><p>Hearing me approach, Hotch glanced back, and when he saw the look on my face he excused himself and met me halfway down the trail. “What’d you find at the restrooms?”</p><p>“Well, another inverted pentagram,” I reported, pulling up the picture I’d sent Penelope and handing him my phone. “There was blood on the ground of the stall she was taken from, and signs of a struggle.”</p><p>“Probably a blitz attack, just like he did with Abby Kelton,” Hotch murmured, handing my phone back. “He was waiting for her.”</p><p>“That’s what Rossi thinks,” I confirmed, and then pulled up the next picture. “There’s one more thing, though.”</p><p>Hotch took the phone again, studying the photo. Four books sat neatly on top of the toilet lid, lined up perfectly according to height. and instantly his eyes snapped up to me. “Are these from Tracey’s backpack?”</p><p>“Her roommate confirmed the books are hers,” I nodded. “They probably fell out during the struggle, which means he took the time to organize them like that before dragging her off. I know it might be reaching, but I think our UnSub might’ve been in a mental institution at one point.”</p><p>Hotch’s brows raised in surprise as I took my phone back, but instead of questioning me, he gave a slow nod and reasoned, “it’s an unusually neat aspect for an otherwise chaotic abduction. The severely mentally ill have disorder all around them. When institutionalized…”</p><p>“They’re given order. A way to help them control their surroundings. They’re taught to keep their rooms clean and neat. To instinctively organize what they can when something <i>unorganized</i> happens.”</p><p>“If the UnSub was suddenly discharged, if he’d stopped taking his meds or he’d lost the control he’d grown accustomed to, his world would spiral into chaos,” Hotch picked up, nodding more fervently as he picked up on the same brainwave I’d hit. “He would fall back on familiar patterns to bring what little order he could back to his life.”</p><p>“I already have Penelope looking into the state mental records,” I told him, and this time I got a full-blown smile out of my stoic boss. He reached out and gave my shoulder a proud squeeze, but before he could say more, Morgan called out,</p><p>“Hey, Hotch. You know anything about this?”</p><p>We both looked over to see Detective Jordan climbing out of his patrol car, heading for us with a church pastor at his heels. Hotch frowned, giving his silent answer, and he motioned for me to follow as he hiked back up to the jeep. </p><p>“Bringin’ in Father Marx was my call,” Detective Jordan explained, which didn’t sit well with Hotch <i>or</i> Morgan. “State Search-and-Rescue is outta Tallahassee. It’ll take ‘em at least four to five hours to get here.”</p><p>Morgan crossed his arms. “So?”</p><p>“Tracey’s a member of the church choir, and my congregation is feeling helpless,” Father Marx explained, unbothered by Morgan’s hostility. “At least this way we’ll feel like we’re doin’ something –“</p><p>“It’s not a good idea,” Morgan instantly shot down. “Both Abby and Tracey are members of your church, which means the UnSub could be too.”</p><p>“So?” Detective Jordan snarked, throwing back Morgan’s same question. Morgan tensed, ready to fire back, but Hotch stepped up first and beat him to it. </p><p>“Serial killers like to insert themselves in these kind of investigations. We know he gets power from us knowing about him and still being able to elude us. Helping in the search-and-rescue would be a significant power move for him –”</p><p>“Look. Tracey’s the second girl to go missing in a week,” Detective Jordan interrupted, shaking his head. “We all know what happened to Abby. Now, I <i>am</i> conducting this search whether you all like it or not. We’re already getting started.”</p><p>Hotch was clearly not happy, but to my surprise it was Morgan that swallowed his hostility and gave a heavy sigh, hands coming to his hips as he reasoned, “he’s got a point. We’re losin’ time waiting on the official Search-and-Rescue. We could try and use this search to draw out the UnSub.”</p><p>“Volunteer sign-in sheets would make a pretty good suspect list,” I realized, and he gave me a nod. Hotch was quiet for several moments, looking between me, Morgan, Father Marx, and the detective. He gave a heavy sigh, but finally consented with a brisk nod. </p><p>“Alright. Morgan, get JJ, Rossi, Reid, and Prentiss here to run the volunteer sign-in and keep things organized. You and I will work with Detective Jordan to take point on the search. Aria, since it sounds like the detective and Father Marx already have things started, help the volunteers wherever you can. I don’t want you leaving this area, though, and I want you near the team at all times. Understood?”</p><p>“Crystal clear,” I confirmed. For the first half hour, while we waited on the rest of the team to join us, I stuck close and helped Hotch, Morgan, and Father Jordan organize the volunteers and get the tables set up. </p><p>As I’d finished helping Morgan put up the awning above the sign-in table, I was just heading over to ask Hotch what he needed when an unfamiliar hand caught my wrist. The man that had grabbed me dropped his hold when I looked back in admitted alarm, and he gave an apologetic blink at the look I fixed him with. </p><p>He was pretty unassuming, and my guard instantly started to go down. He was short for a man, only a handful of inches above me in my heels, and he was the embodiment of ‘retro 70’s dad’, right down to the dark, tucked-in button up shirt, jean shorts and thick, wiry glasses. He gave a timid, flickering smile as I turned to face him.</p><p>“S’cuse me, miss,” he mumbled, ducking his gaze when our eyes met. “The agents o’er there told me you might be able’ta help me get this table set up, if it’s not too much trouble…”</p><p>He nodded over to a pickup truck that was half unloaded, but still didn’t meet my eyes again. Although unease prickled down my spine I shrugged it off; so what if he was a little awkward? Helping out was what I was here for, right? “Of course. Lead the way.”</p><p>I followed him over, and between the two of us it only took about ten minutes to get the table out and set up. As I handed him the stack of paper bowls – the last thing from the cab of his truck – the man gave me an appreciative smile. </p><p>“That was real kind of ya, miss,” he said, and motioned to the cooking pot he had set up on a portable heating. “I’d really love to thank ya. Do you like chili?”</p><p>The short answer was a definite yes, but it wasn’t the one I’d be giving. Eating food without nutrition labels was always a gamble for me with my diabetes. I used the carbs and sugar to help figure out how much insulin to take, and without knowing what something contained, I’d have to guess at how much insulin I needed. Which meant there was a slim chance I’d get it right and be fine. More than likely, I’d end up either shooting too high or too low and I’d make myself sick for the rest of the day. </p><p>“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to pass,” I told him with a small smile; he was already starting to ladle some into a bowl for me. As if he didn’t hear me, he held it out and waited for me to take it. </p><p>“It’s <i>real</i> good,” he promised; his head tilted just a hint to the side. Instantly the unease that had blossomed when he’d first grabbed my hand rose up again. He seemed nice enough, that was for sure, but the way he was looking at me, the tone of his voice… “I think you’ll really like it. It’s all homemade, y’know. Every single ingredient is organic. It doesn’t get more authentic than this.”</p><p>Smile a little less sincere this time, I gently nudged the bowl back to him and shook my head. At the look of hurt on his face, I told him quickly, “it’s nothing personal, really. I’m diabetic, so I can’t have the good stuff.”</p><p>Before answering me, the man held my gaze as he slowly lowered the bowl to the table. He <i>hmm</i>’d and gave a small shrug, the stare unsettling me even more than his words had. </p><p>“Right, I gotcha,” he assured. “You change your mind though, you come find me. I’ll keep a bowl nice and fresh, just for you.”</p><p>From across the clearing, Hotch caught my eye and he beckoned me to him with the crook of a finger. Ever-grateful for the excuse to high-tail it out of there, I instantly started to back up as I said quickly, “will do. Thanks!”</p><p>Before he could say more, I all but whirled and ran to my boss, putting as much distance between myself and that unnerving food stand as I could. Hotch eyed me curiously at my brisk approach, but didn’t question me as I paused at his side. </p><p>“We’re about to start the search,” he told me, nodding to the groups that were slowly growing at the edge of the forest trail. “Morgan, Rossi, and I will be joining the teams.”</p><p>“Can I help?” I asked hopefully, eager to be of use. My heart sunk a bit as Hotch shook his head.</p><p>“Not with us,” he told me apologetically. “I’d like you to stay here and help the others with the sign-in booth.”</p><p>At the tone of his voice, I narrowed my eyes. Either I was getting better at profiling, or just better at reading Hotch, but I knew his elusive answers when I heard them. Tilting my head, I asked him slowly, “JJ and Emily already have the sign-in sheets covered. How will I be any more help to them?”</p><p>His eyes narrowed a hint. “You can help Reid ensure everyone present is signed in to give us the most accurate list of possible suspects.”</p><p>“Is that really why?” I pressed, and his eyes narrowed even more. When I raised my brows at him, he let out a small sigh and pressed his lips together. </p><p>“You fit the profile for the UnSub,” he finally admitted after several moments. “You’re the same age, and your appearance is similar to both Tracey and more than half the other victims. I’d rather not have you more at risk than you already are just being out here.”</p><p>Well, he wasn’t wrong. “Okay, you make a fair point. I’ll be useful out here, you guys go find us our creepy serial killer.”</p><p>“I want you to stay with Reid,” he ordered, already backing towards the search groups. When I didn’t move, he pointedly flicked his eyes back towards the sign-in table. Oh, he meant starting right <i>now</i>.</p><p>“I’m going,” I promised, backing up across the clearing and giving him a small smile. “Be safe out there.” </p><p>He just gave a curt nod, though he didn’t actually turn to follow the rest into the forest until I’d come up beside the table Emily and JJ were at. The girls were both busy herding the newest volunteers appropriately, so I instantly turned to seek out Reid. </p><p>The handsome doctor was just a couple dozen feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets, sharp eyes sweeping the crowd. With his unbelievable memory, I knew he was easily categorizing the groups of people swarming about. </p><p>Even with how intently he was focused on his task as hand, he didn’t fail to notice me joining him. He glanced down and a curious smile came over his face, clearly wondering what I was doing. </p><p>“You’ve been tasked with keeping me out of trouble,” I informed him, playful smile on my lips. His brows went up, smile still on his face as he mulled over my words. </p><p>“I don’t know if I’m qualified for that,” he mused, instantly getting a grin on my face at his teasing. “What are you really doing here?”</p><p>“Hotch doesn’t want me out searching,” I told him, turning to study the volunteers still milling about in the clearing ahead of us. I caught Reid nodding out of the corner of my eye. </p><p>“It’s quite understandable. Even paired with others for a search, it’s easy to get lost or separated in the woods,” Reid instantly began to ramble. “Approximately 2,000 people get lost in the woods each year. It’s surprisingly easy to lose your bearings, especially in unfamiliar terrain. Plus, if you take out the statistics of how likely it is the UnSub is not only a member of the church – but now a member of the search party – the woods can be a very fatal place.”</p><p>“How come?” I asked him, looking up and studying him as he studied the others around us. Seriously, he was just… well, he was beautiful. Maybe it was an unusual way to describe a man, but I couldn’t think of any way better. </p><p>The glow of the sun behind the trees illuminated his chiseled jaw and the sharp profile of his slim neck and shoulders. Though his shirt wasn’t as well-fitted as some of the others he wore, the short sleeves showed his surprisingly well-toned arms and with it tucked into his pants it accentuated his narrow hips. He might’ve been thin but it didn’t mean I wasn’t completely caught up in the shape of him. </p><p>Okay, okay. <i>Maybe</i> Penelope had a point; <i>maybe</i> I was more than a little smitten with Reid. I mean, was it normal to obsess over the sharp angle of his cheek bones? To get totally lost in watching the veins in his arms flex as he shifted to fold them over his chest?</p><p>I was so busy studying him that I hadn’t noticed he’d replied. </p><p>“Aria?” my name caught my attention and my eyes snapped up to his; he was watching me watch him. Oh my god, I was <i>so</i> not subtle! First ogling at him at the station, now this? How long had he noticed me staring at him? Had I been as obvious as I felt? I mean, I’d only looked him up and down once!... or, had it been twice?</p><p>There was a burning curiosity in his soft, sepia gaze that was powerful enough to take my breath away. It took all my self-control to focus again and manage a meek, “what was that?”</p><p>“I, um,” he cleared his throat, and his cheeks tinted pink as he looked away. Oh, I’d <i>so</i> been caught. To my surprise, though, he didn’t look uncomfortable. The hint of a smile played over his lips as he repeated, “I said that there’s more of a chance you’d be attacked by native wildlife than a serial killer, and your odds of survival would be significantly more slim with them than our UnSub.”</p><p><i>Act like you weren’t totally drooling over him,</i> I ordered myself, forcing my nerves to play it cool as I mimicked him and crossed my arms, fighting the burning heat rising over my face. </p><p>“You know what? That’s kind of reassuring in a way.”</p><p>Reid laughed, peeking down at me briefly before turning back to watch the volunteers. “Why would that be reassuring?”</p><p>“Is it weird to say I’d rather be targeted by a hungry alligator than a satanic serial killer?” I asked him, getting another laugh out of him. </p><p>“It’s actually not,” he assured me. “I feel the same way.”</p><p>As the two of us giggled, I caught sight of the bowls some of the volunteers were carrying; my stomach grumbled almost on cue. I hadn’t noticed how hungry I’d been, but watching the others eat, I couldn’t deny it. Had I even had breakfast? </p><p>If I was feeling hungry enough to have my stomach growl, it meant I hadn’t, which also meant my blood sugar was probably starting to dip lower than it should’ve. There’d be no hunger-fainting on my watch</p><p>“I’ll be right back,” I told Reid, starting to move from his side to go claim the bowl of chili I’d denied earlier. He glanced at me and I patted my stomach. “I haven’t eaten yet today, and I’m starting to think I probably should before I turn hypoglycemic. Something tells me that wouldn’t really help with the search.”</p><p>To my surprise, instead of just nodding and letting me go, Reid reached into his pocket and produced a granola bar. I was so caught off guard all I could do was stare at it, and then stare at <i>him</i>. </p><p>“I grabbed a few from the hotel’s breakfast bar before we left,” he told me, holding it out to me. “They’re pretty good, actually. And the carbs and sugar are decent enough that it shouldn’t raise your sugar too high.”</p><p>At a total loss for words, I just took the granola bar and studied it. He was right, to no surprise. The carbs and sugar were right at the limits I tried to stay under, which meant I wouldn’t even need to take my insulin until we got back. </p><p>“You’re sure you don’t want this?” I asked him, and when he nodded, I grinned up at him and clutched the bar thankfully. “This is great, Reid. Thank you. You’re totally my hero.”</p><p>The blush on his cheeks darkened and he immediately turned to look back over the clearing, a shy smile toying over his lips as he managed, “oh. I, uh, you – you’re welcome. I’m glad that it, um, that it works for you.”</p><p>Maybe I was being cheesy, but I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t the best damn granola bar I’d ever had. </p><p>--</p><p>The search had been called at 6pm. By that time, even in Florida it had grown too dark to keep at it. With no sign of Tracey, the volunteers <i>and</i> the officers had left feeling hopeless. By the time we got back to the station, the mood was a solemn, frustrated melancholy that hung heavily over everyone inside. </p><p>After the disheartening day I’d had, my best friend’s voice was exactly what I’d needed to hear. As soon as I answered she greeted me with a cheery, </p><p>“How’re things going on your end, my beautiful sugar-free gumdrop?”</p><p>Stifling a snort at her amusing – and accurate – nickname, I leaned back in the chair I was curled in and told her honestly, </p><p>“About as poorly as they could be. Did you get the list of volunteers that JJ sent you?”</p><p>“Yes ma’am I did,” she assured, clicking away at her keyboard. “I’m currently cross-checking those names against the mental institution records you had me pull up. I’ve also got the particulars of our homicides running through ViCAP as we speak. So far I’ve got nothing on either front, but I’ll keep going.”</p><p>“Is that Garcia?” Emily asked from her spot at the table beside me. When I nodded she asked, “what does she have so far?”</p><p>“Right now? The list of volunteers and some dead-end searches, but the night’s still young,” I told her. Emily frowned and went quiet in thought for a heartbeat, then looked up as she snapped her fingers. </p><p>“Oh! You know what? Have her narrow the search on that and pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. With him focusing so heavily around this part of Florida, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s the type who’d like to stick close to home.”</p><p>“You’re absolutely brilliant, you know that?” I grinned at her, getting a wink from Emily as I said to Penelope, “did you get that?”</p><p>“Both her suggestion, and your open flirting with the other love of my life,” she teased. “Alright. I’ll get that started, and I’ll call you beautiful ladies as soon as I’ve got some better news.”</p><p>“Thanks Penny. Oh, wait,” I added, pushing to my feet and skirting the table. Once I was sure I was out of earshot of the others, I asked a little quieter, “did you, um… did you call Chris?”</p><p>There was a giddy giggle from my best friend, and instead of excitement, all I felt was dread. “I did. We’re going to dinner on Friday!” </p><p>“I – wow,” I forced out, taking a settling breath. She was seriously going on a date with him. “That’s great, Pen.”</p><p>There was a beat of silence on the other end, and she asked me cautiously, “why do you sound as unenthusiastic as Morgan did the other day?”</p><p>Crap. Come on, Aria! Turn on the razzle-dazzle! “Oh, no, Penny. I’m really excited. I’m sorry, it’s just this case. You know?”</p><p>“Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?” she scoffed, instantly calling out my admittedly-terrible bluff. “Because you’re a terrible liar.”</p><p>“I’m really happy that you have a date,” I deflected, wording my reply so I wouldn’t be lying to my best friend. The date part was great, it really was! It was just Chris… I mean, was it? Or was it just Morgan’s own paranoia leaking into my own thoughts?</p><p>“Really?” she asked me softly, and this time my smile was honest and my answer was genuine. </p><p>“Really, Pen. You know what? If we’re back before then, I can help you get ready and everything.”</p><p>“You’d do that!?” She asked excitedly, and I couldn’t help my smile. </p><p>“Of course. That’s what best friends are for.” I caught sight of Hotch coming into the conference room. By the look on his face I could tell the case had another development, and unsurprisingly it didn’t seem to be a good one. “hey, I’ve gotta go, but call me as soon as you’ve got something okay?”</p><p>“You got it. Stay safe,” she told me, and the moment she hung up I was hurrying back to the others. Well, to Emily and JJ. Morgan was off with Father Marx and Detective Jordan going over the volunteer list, Rossi was still busy interviewing the families of the first ten victims – and Abby’s parents – and Reid was narrowing down the geographical profile with the addition of Tracey’s disappearance. </p><p>“That doesn’t look good,” Emily began, studying Hotch as I came up beside her. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>He let out a heavy sigh and told us quietly, “another woman’s body was found at Father Marx’s church just half an hour ago.”</p><p>“Right around the time we were all coming back from Tracey’s search party,” Emily realized, sharing a look with the two of us. “Which means… if the UnSub was a part of the search volunteers like we’re assuming…”</p><p>“They could’ve just dumped the body on their way back. The church isn’t ten minutes from where we are,” I finished, and Hotch gave a solemn nod. “Is she one of the first ten that he took? If I remember right, four of their bodies were never recovered.”</p><p>Hotch again nodded to confirm my memory and he held out a sheet to Emily and I as he added, “according to Dr. Fulton, the woman is Maria Lopez. She’s Hispanic and in her early-to-mid-twenties, so she’s not any of the others we’ve identified so far.”</p><p> Emily took it and I skimmed over her shoulder. Halfway through, though, Emily shook her head and tapped to one of the sections of the file. “Wait a second. This can’t be right. This says she was reported missing nine months ago, but she’s only been dead for seventy-two hours.”</p><p>“That’s correct,” Hotch assured solemnly. “I also had Dr. Fulton check for sexual assault, and he said there was no sign of any.”</p><p>My brows furrow and I looked up at him curiously. “Well, why would he keep her alive for nine months just to kill her three days ago?”</p><p>“I don’t have an answer for that just yet, but I’ve got him checking her tissues to see if the cells have burst.”</p><p>It was Emily’s turn to look up at him in question. “You… think she was <i>frozen</i>?”</p><p>When he nodded, I blinked in surprise and studied our boss curiously. “Why would you think that?” His lips pressed together, and he stayed quiet long enough for me to prompt hesitantly, “Hotch?”</p><p>“Because… I think he’s eating them.”</p><p>--</p><p>“Dr. Fulton confirmed it,” Emily announced as she rejoined us in the conference room. Though I spared a brief glance at her, my head instantly went back to my hand. “Maria Lopez was frozen shortly after her death.”</p><p>Morgan gave a heavy sigh; I heard him lean back in his chair and scrub a hand down his face again. “Well, that explains why we haven’t been able to find any of the victims. He’s been eatin’ them.”</p><p>I made a noise of disgust and groaned, “okay. I thought we’d safely crossed cannibalism off the list. How did we circle back to this?”</p><p>“It was always one of the possibilities, it was just much more unlikely than the other options. He didn’t take the women for sex,” Hotch explained, almost reluctantly. He didn’t want to go into the details as much as I didn’t want to hear them. “There were no signs of sadism, and he’s been taking body parts. He was trying to tell us by feeding the fingers to Abby Kelton. The fingers <i>were</i> a message, but <i>I’ve killed before</i> was only part of it. <i>I’m eating them</i> was the other.”</p><p>My stomach flip-flopped and for what had to be the tenth time in the last hour, I had genuine concerns I’d be losing the bit of food I’d eaten today. Thankfully, before the others could keep at the disgusting topic, my phone buzzed in my pocket. The other’s looked up as I answered.   </p><p>“Hey, Penny. I’m gonna put you on speaker,” I told her instantly, hitting the button and then sliding my phone to the center of the table, dropping my face back into my hand. </p><p>“Right, guys, so… I can’t find any patients in Florida who have the charming cocktail of being both a satanist and a cannibal,” she regrettably informed us. Oh, look. Another sentence that had a perfectly creepy place in my line of work. Joy. “<i>However</i>, our brilliant intern may have given us something to follow up on. Hazelwood Mental Institution has been home to dozens of Florida's most dangerous kinds of wackos. And I’m talking the really sick and twisted. Like Emily pointed out too, Hazelwood had the highest number of patients admitted involuntarily. At least from what I could find, up until 1998.”</p><p>At her tone, I peeked up from my hand and saw the studious frown on Hotch’s face as he asked, “what happened in 1998?”</p><p>“Coincidentally, there was a man-made fire that ended up destroying all their records. Most of them weren’t even put online – everything I’ve come across was from old newspaper clippings and a few wayward reports.” </p><p>Hotch looked around the table at the rest of us, and we all shared the same look. At this point, this was as good of a lead as any. “Garcia, how far away is Hazelwood?”</p><p>“Seventy miles,” Reid answered instantaneously, earning looks of bewilderment from the rest of us.</p><p>“Right,” Hotch said slowly, eyeing him before turning to JJ. “Tell them we’re on our way. Reid, Aria –“</p><p>“Say no more,” I said instantly, shoving to my feet at the same time Reid stood and said, </p><p>“Let’s do it.”</p><p>We both shared a bemused glance as we followed Hotch to the SUV. Clearly we both agreed a road trip to a mental institution was <i>way</i> better than sitting back and discussing the finer points of cannibalism. </p><p>“Reid, how long will it take us to get there?” Hotch asked, glancing back at us. Reid <i>hmm</i>’d and then said, </p><p>“With the lack of traffic this time of night, taking a less-known highway at the average seventy miles-per-hour, I’d say just around sixty-five minutes.”</p><p>Hotch nodded and then held out the keys to me. When I took them, he asked again, “what about now?”</p><p>Reid cracked a smile and shrugged. “Given the driving I’ve seen and assuming Aria won’t be going the posted speed limit, I’d wager approximately forty minutes.”</p><p>Grinning back at him, I unlocked the SUV and hopped behind the well. “Well, let’s see if I can prove you wrong, Dr. Reid.”</p><p>--</p><p>To no one’s surprise, Reid was almost dead-on. Even with me pushing nearly fifteen miles over the speed limit and hitting practically no traffic, I was pulling into the parking lot at forty-three minutes.</p><p>“Despite your best efforts,” the genius teased, giving me a teasingly wary look as we climbed out of the vehicle, “it looks like I was right.”</p><p>“Don’t challenge her,” Hotch warned, eyeing me as he circled the SUV, leading us towards the front entrance. Reid and I stifled our giggles as we followed him inside the <i>Hazelwood Hospital for the Criminally Insane.</i></p><p>The man waiting at the front door looked mildly put-out, clearly here past his normal time. He begrudgingly pushed the doors open for us and instantly started down the hall, leading us further inside.</p><p>“You’re Dr. Nash?” Hotch asked, and when the man nodded, he introduced, “I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Dr. Reid, and Miss DiMaggio. We appreciate you taking the time to speak with us.”</p><p>“Well, I gotta be honest with y’all, I don’t know what good this’ll do,” Dr. Nash deflected instantly. “As I told Agent Jareau on the phone, we have no existing record of that patient you described.”</p><p>As he led us into his office, I didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in Hotch’s dark eyes. “Yes, but your records only go back as far as 1998. We were hoping perhaps you may remember him, as you’ve worked here since before the fire.”</p><p>Reid and I shared a glance. Hotch clearly wasn’t in the mood to be blown off like Dr. Nash was attempting to do. I didn’t blame him; we’d had a <i>really</i> long day. The older man took a seat on one side of the desk as Reid and I settled into the chairs across from him, with Hotch standing behind us. </p><p>“I’m sorry to say I don’t,” Dr. Nash shrugged, and explained simply, “y’see, Jim Lorenz was in charge of the adolescents, not myself.”</p><p>“Adolescents?” Reid asked curiously, looking between Hotch and I. “What makes you think we’re looking for an adolescent that was here?”</p><p>Dr. Nash shrugged and said matter-of-factly, “well, going from what Agent Jareau said you were looking for, the only reason we would ever release a patient this disturbed would be if he’d been admitted as a minor and then turned eighteen. Legally we wouldn’t be able to keep him, even if we’d felt we needed to.”</p><p>“That’s a big help,” I encouraged, and asked hopefully, “could we speak to Dr. Lorenz, then?”</p><p>“He died in the fire. He was leavin’ for the day when he heard the alarm, and he came back inside. Got trapped in the flames and went up with the records.”</p><p>Again, Reid and exchanged a look, and I asked slowly, “What would’ve made him come back into a burning building?”</p><p>“You see, he was a very dedicated man. I’m sure he was doing what he could to salvage the most important records,” Dr. Nash shrugged, and Reid sat forward, clearly onto something. </p><p>“Could it be that there was something in his office that he felt was worth risking his life for?” he asked, and instead of dismissing his question, the doctor across from us pressed his lips together as he clearly thought back over something. </p><p>“Dr. Nash?” Hotch pressed, and slowly he looked back up to us before letting out a slow sigh.</p><p>“Well, there is <i>something…</i> the grounds people found it in a tree just below his office, as if Jim had thrown it out his window before he… y’know.” </p><p>He held out a thick leather notebook and Reid took it, instantly flipping it open. Immediately he began to skim through the pages, a slim finger skirting down the writing and flipping through the book at mind-boggling speed. </p><p>“Did you ever read this yourself?” I asked idly as I tried not to get distracted by Reid’s nimble hands, or his long fingers, or the way his tongue flickered out briefly against his bottom lip... Dr. Nash shook his head and told me quietly,</p><p>“I… I started to, but… but I had to stop.”</p><p>At his hesitant reply I pulled my gaze away from Reid and caught the hardly-veiled repulsion in the glare he gave the journal. Before I could ask what that was about, Reid read out loud,</p><p>“<i>The patient’s symptoms go far beyond normal psychosexual, oral biting fixation of a typical seven-year-old boy…</i>”</p><p>Well, that was never a good combination of behaviors. Hotch pulled out his phone and a moment later he said, “Rossi, we’ve got something. I need a name, Reid.”</p><p>“<i>Admitted after biting a large piece of flesh out of his nine-month-old sister -</i>”</p><p>I made a noise of disgust as Hotch said firmly, </p><p>“A name, Reid.”</p><p>The genius at my side was too caught-up in the macabre report he was reading through. “<i>He believes he’s possessed by a flesh-eating demon -</i>”</p><p>Hotch’s eyes flicked to me in exasperation and I took that as my cue. My hand fell to Reid’s arm and I gave him a gentle squeeze. Instantly his eyes lifted to mine and he blinked in question and I prompted, “do you have a name?”</p><p>“Um, yeah. Yeah,” he said quickly, and flicked to the next page. “Floyd Feylinn Ferell.”</p><p>--</p><p>By the time we were skidding into the station’s parking lot (in just under forty minutes, much to Hotch and Reid’s alarmed disbelief) the rest of the team and Detective Jordan had already apprehended Ferell. </p><p>Rossi met us at the doors of the station, a heavy look on his face as we gathered around him. Along with Ferell, we found more than half the victims in a walk-in freezer, all missing their legs and fingers.”</p><p>Reid and I blanched in sync as Hotch asked, “and what about Tracey Lambert?”</p><p>“Nope. Morgan and Father Marx are in with him now.”</p><p>“What?” Hotch asked in alarm, and Rossi instantly put his hands up. “We shouldn’t have anyone in there but a member of our team or law enforcement –“</p><p>“I know, I know,” he assured, motioning for us to follow him through the station, towards the back interrogation rooms. “He told Morgan he could only tell Father Marx where Tracey was. At this point, we’re out of time and I had to make a call.”</p><p>“Do you think he’s trying to pull something on Father Marx?” I piped up as I trotted behind Rossi and Hotch, Reid at my side. “I mean, Abby and Tracey were both from his church, and Maria Lopez’s body was found there too…”</p><p>Hotch was already nodding, pushing the door open to the back rooms and leading us in as he confirmed, “at this point I wouldn’t put it past him.”</p><p>“<i>Where’s Tracey Lambert, Floyd</i>?” Morgan pressed. As we approached the interrogation room, my eyes fell to the man sitting across from Morgan and Father Marx. </p><p>To the man in the dark, tucked in button up shirt, jean shorts, and thick, wiry glasses. </p><p>I was so surprised I stopped walking and Reid nearly collided with me. Though I heard him ask a question, all I could do was stare at the man in custody. I knew him. He’d been at the search this morning…</p><p>“<i>I’ve done some bad things</i>,” Ferell told Morgan and Father Marx, his head tilted down, mumbling to himself. Just how he’d spoken to me.</p><p>“Aria,” Hotch said firmly, pulling me out of my panicked thoughts. When my gaze shot to his and he saw the alarm in my eyes his face instantly softened into concern. “What is it?”</p><p>“<i>Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of, Floyd,</i>” Morgan assured. “<i>The only thing that helps is to talk about ‘em. Can you talk to us, tell us what you’ve done</i>?” </p><p>“I know him,” I said quickly, voice catching in my throat. “He – he was at the search this morning –“</p><p>Emily shook her head and pointed out, “Morgan, Father Marx, <i>and</i> Garcia went over the sign-in lists. His name was on the volunteer sheet but not on the list of searchers.”</p><p>“<i>Father, I feel so alone,</i>” Ferell said slowly, shrugging his shoulders as he asked dejectedly, “<i>I feel like God has abandoned me. Why</i>?”</p><p>“He wasn’t part of the search party,” I said quickly. “He was –“</p><p>Oh my god. The chili. He’d been – <i>oh my god</i>. </p><p>Nausea swept through me and I actually took a step back, a hand coming up to my mouth in horror as I processed what I’d just realized. Reid, still at my side, instantly reached out and rested a tentative hand on my arm, like he was bracing for me to run, or maybe collapse. </p><p>Honestly I felt like doing both right then. </p><p>Hotch crossed the room to me and his hand held my shoulder gently, getting my eyes onto him. “Aria, what is it?” </p><p>“<i>You are not alone, my son,</i>” Father Marx promised Ferell, and the man across from him shook his head. “<i>God is in all of us.</i>”</p><p>Ferell’s face flickered with a haunting smile as, slowly, his eyes slid to meet Father Marx’s gaze. </p><p>Seriously, I was gonna throw up. </p><p>“He wasn’t in the search parties,” I repeated, voice tight with repulsed disgust as I forced out, “He was – Hotch, he was serving chili. He was feeding the volunteers.”</p><p>Everyone in the room around me drew in a collective, repulsed breath as the realization hit them all. Hotch turned to Rossi and urged, </p><p>“We need to stop the interview. Get them out of there –“</p><p>Ferell had fully lifted his head, and the blank, expressionless look on his face was almost as nauseating as the words he whispered to Father Marx and Morgan. </p><p>“<i>So is Tracey Lambert.</i>”</p><p>Thank God Reid had kept his hold on me. As Father Marx leaned back in horror my legs gave out from under me. His large hand locked onto my arm the moment he felt me slump and the next I was being eased down into a chair. Reid knelt on one side of me and Emily – producer of the chair – was on the other. </p><p>“Aria, please tell me,” she began, and took a breath as if she was steeling herself for what she had to ask. “<i>Please</i> tell me you didn’t eat any of the –“</p><p>“Oh god, no. No, no. No, no, <i>no</i>,” I repeated quickly, dropping my face into my hands. I wasn’t sure if I was answering her or reassuring myself. The bowl of chili – <i>the bowl of Tracey Lambert</i> – was literally right in front of me. I’d almost taken it from him, just to be nice. </p><p>“You didn’t have any of the, the um…” Reid cleared his throat and I shook my head sharply, eyes squeezed shut as I doubled over and buried my face in my hands. I <i>really</i> didn’t want to throw up on a case but it was looking like a real possibility.</p><p>“No, I didn’t. He offered but I turned him down – I said no because I didn’t want to have to take my insulin.”</p><p>“I think it’s safe to say this is probably the one and only time you can be truly thankful you’re a diabetic,” Reid told me, and despite the disgust – and vivid nausea – burning through me I let out a shaky laugh. </p><p>“As always, Reid, you’re completely right.” </p><p>Another shadow fell over me and I peeked through my fingers to see Hotch kneeling in front of me. His hand rested gently on my knee in silent comfort, watching me carefully as I picked my head up from my hands. </p><p>Remembering what I’d promised him the other morning, I said feebly, “I feel like this kind of goes without saying, but I’m letting you know I’m <i>definitely</i> not alright with this case anymore.”</p><p>Hotch cracked an honest-to-God smile and gave my leg a squeeze. “I appreciate you telling me so instead of jumping straight to vomiting.”</p><p>“No promises on that for much longer. The night’s still young,” I only half-joked, plunking my head back into my hands. I really, <i>really</i> couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Florida. </p><p>--</p><p>The flight back to Quantico was only two hours, but it felt like it was taking a lifetime. I’d wanted nothing more than to sleep and forget this case as soon as possible, but it was like my body just refused to give me peace. It was nearly six p.m. and I’d been up over twenty-four hours, but I was wide awake. </p><p>Between the memory of the chili sloshing in the bowl and Ferell’s blank, haunting face, I doubted I’d be sleeping at all for at least the next week. With a weary sigh, I rubbed at my aching eyes and shifted again in the seat, willing myself to get comfortable. </p><p>Reid settled into the seat across from me, sliding a cup of tea my way as he said softly, “it’s peppermint. It always helps settle my stomach, and I know you’re probably not feeling well after… <i>well</i>…”</p><p>“I’m not,” I confirmed with a small smile, gratefully taking the cup and letting the warmth settle in my hands, pushing the chills of the case away. “This is really great. Thank you, Reid.”</p><p>He gave a quick nod of his head, and we settled into silence for a few moments as I took a couple of careful sips. When he spoke again, he was so quiet I almost missed it. </p><p>“At least you’re one of the few people I’ll never have to try and justify my hatred for potlucks to.”</p><p>The snort that left me was so loud I startled Rossi awake. Reid and I dissolved into barely-hushed giggles and we had to look away from one another as Rossi gave me a scowl and shuffled back down in his seat. Once he started snoring again, Reid and I locked eyes again and the giggles came back full force. </p><p>“No, you’ll never have to,” I promised, shaking my head and grimacing at the thought of eating unknown food ever again. “I’ll tell you right now, group food is completely and totally out of the question for the rest of my life.”</p><p>“As it should be,” he chuckled in agreement as I sipped at the tea. When I met his eyes again, though, his expression softened a hint and he asked, “are you alright, though?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” I told him honestly, nodding as I sat the cup down, giving a small shrug. “I mean, this is <i>definitely</i> gonna stick with me for a bit, but I know this’ll pass.”</p><p>Reid smiled a hint, and though he bobbed his head in understanding he told me, “that’s good. But I meant besides just the case.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” I asked him, tipping my head to the side as I studied him. He pressed his lips together like he was debating what to say next, but when I raised my brows in question he finally relented, </p><p>“Your answer the other day wasn’t really convincing. When I asked you about that phone call?”</p><p>Reid had managed to completely catch me off guard, and for several seconds all I could do was stare at him. Yeah, no wonder I wasn’t convincing. Way to play it cool, Aria… I went to dismiss his concern when the voice in the back of my head pointed out, </p><p>
  <i>You said you’d tell them after work. It’s after work AND after the case.</i>
</p><p>Yeah, okay, I had a point. I’d weaseled my way out of telling Reid about Connor at Quantico with the loophole of allowing myself to wait until after the case. Now, there were no more holes to be looped. </p><p>Slowly, I opened my mouth as I tried to think of what to say. How did I even start? <i>Things are just fine. Oh, I mean, my abusive ex is stalking me again and I’m so stressed out about it I’m hardly sleeping and I’m overly paranoid but no, I’m fine.</i></p><p>As I went back and forth with myself in my head, the silence stretched on. After what had to be at least a minute of my point-blank stare and awkward, telling silence, Reid offered me a small smile. </p><p>“It’s alright. You don’t need to tell me,” he assured, getting to his feet. No, I wanted to! I just… words were hard, okay? It’d been a long week, I hadn’t slept, I was still squicked about the chili… “I um, I’m here. If-if you want to talk about anything, that is.”</p><p>Bless his sweet soul, he was trying to give me the space he thought I wanted. More than anything I wished I could just <i>tell him</i>. The words wouldn’t come together. My throat had dried out and apparently all knowledge of how to form coherent, functioning sentences had fully left my knowledge. </p><p>As he moved to slip down the aisle, back to his spot on the couch, I reached out and grabbed his hand before he could leave me completely. “Um, Reid?”</p><p>“Yeah?” he asked softly; he didn’t pull his hand away. Though he didn’t return my hold, he let me keep his hand in mine as I said softly,</p><p>“I never really got to thank you.”</p><p>Caught off guard, he raised his brows slowly in question. “For what?”</p><p>“You and that granola bar were what saved me from that chili,” I pointed out, and gave him a small half-smile as I teased, “guess you really <i>are</i> my hero.”</p><p>Though I let go of his hand, Reid lingered for just a moment longer as if he could sense there was more I wanted to say. Like he could see right through me, down to my frightened, shaken core and see the desperation I couldn’t put into words. </p><p>“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll always help you if you let me,” he finally promised softly. His honest, heartfelt words touched me so deeply and unexpectedly that even as he walked away, as the plane fell into the deep silence it had been engulfed in before our whispers and giggles, the warmth he left with me didn’t fade. </p><p>Not even a bit. </p><p>--</p><p>Morgan met my eyes as he left the bullpen, headed for the elevator. I was leaning on the wall beside it, watching down the hall, waiting for Penelope to emerge from her lair. As Morgan approached, I reached out and hit the button for him and he gave me a nod of thanks. </p><p>“You with Garcia tonight?” he asked, leaning on his shoulder beside me; I tipped my head back against the wall and gave a nod. “She’s really goin’ out with that guy? You really supportin’ her on this?”</p><p>Pushing down the bubbling anxiety in my chest I just gave him a nod and said simply, “she’s really excited about it.”</p><p>Morgan didn’t look pleased with my dodgy answer and he shook his head. “Sunshine, I know you just want to build her up, alright? I get it, I do. But right now, Garcia doesn’t need a friend. She needs a voice of reason, and even if it’s not what she wants to hear, bein’ disappointed is better than bein’ hurt –”</p><p>“She’s <i>already</i> hurt, Derek,” I argued back, folding my arms over my chest. “I know you want to protect her, I do. I get it. But having you shut her down right out of the gate was a really hard blow.”</p><p>“Feelings can be fixed, kid. I’m not perfect, but I know when my gut’s onto somethin’, and not one thing sits right about her goin’ on this date. She can be mad at me all she wants. I’d rather that than havin’ her get hurt in <i>any</i> way by some guy she doesn’t know.”</p><p>“That’s <i>if</i> he hurts her,” I pointed out, and as the words left my mouth I almost wished I could’ve taken them back. </p><p>There was the flicker of something in his gaze – frustration, annoyance, maybe both? – but before he could speak the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He pressed his lips together as he pushed off the wall, turning to step inside, but paused and held his arm out to hold the door as he looked down at me again. </p><p>“You’re right. He might not hurt her. But tell me this, sunshine. Are you really willin’ to take that risk? To let <i>Penelope</i> take that risk?” </p><p>His tone of voice struck a chord deep inside, right in the middle of my fluttering anxiety, as I finally placed the emotion it carried. He wasn’t mad, or upset, or annoyed right now. </p><p>Concern. </p><p>He was genuinely, unabashedly, whole-heartedly concerned. His dark gaze was full of unbridled trepidation that pierced me so sharply it took my breath away. The realization of <br/>Just how deep-seated his worry was hit me right as the doors slid shut, and I was plunged into painful silence, left alone with my own steadily-growing apprehension.</p><p><i>What if he’s right? What if something happens and I can’t keep her safe?</i> I slumped against the wall again, fingers tangling together as I started to run over all the scenarios I hadn’t wanted to think about. </p><p>
  <i>What if Chris turns out to be a jerk? What if it’s a terrible date and she comes home in tears? What if he’s secretly a sleeze-bag and tries to take advantage of her? What if he hurts her? What if –</i>
</p><p>“You ready to go, my sweet summertime peach?” </p><p>Penelope’s cheerful voice yanked me out of the pit of apprehension I’d started to fall into. Quickly righting myself and throwing on a smile, I let her tuck me into a one-armed hug as she hit the elevator button.</p><p><i>Maybe it’s not too late to talk her out of this</i>, I wondered, peeking up at my best friend. I mean, I really didn’t want to ruin her excitement… but Morgan’s words just wouldn’t go away. His unease lingered in mind and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he really did have a point.</p><p>“Are you really sure about this? About Chris?” I asked as we stepped into the elevator. I’d tried to make myself sound carefree but clearly, it hadn’t worked. Penelope turned and looked down at me in surprise, her bright brown eyes widening at my tone. </p><p>“Why wouldn’t I be?” she prompted, her guard going up instantly. <i>Just like she’d done with Derek.</i> There was the beginning of betrayal in her gaze, like she knew what I was trying so hard to hide. </p><p>I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take back all the confidence I’d built up in her. There was no way on God’s green earth that I’d be the reason her face fell, like it was dangerously close to doing. </p><p>So instead of letting Morgan’s doubt take over my own thoughts, I gave my best friend a playful smile and nudged her gently. “Do you really think he deserves your beautiful self? I’m not dolling you up for anyone who isn’t worthy.” </p><p>Penelope giggled, her defenses dropping instantly. She relaxed beside me, tucking me closer, pillowing her cheek on my head. “Trust me. I’m ready to show <i>Mr. Adonis</i> what he lucked into.”</p><p>We linked arms in the lobby, grinning and giggling with each other – per usual – as we headed out to her car. The drive to Penelope’s was short, and I spent the entire ride forcing aside my own paranoia. I was just on edge; no sleep and near-cannibalism could do that to a person. </p><p>By the time we’d reached her apartment – and she’d gone to change – I was almost kind of just a <i>little</i> bit less worked up. Instead of focusing on my growing anxiety, I channeled my nervous energy into dressing up my best friend. </p><p>“Is this okay?” she asked me timidly, shuffling out and shakily smoothing down the dress she wore. My face lit up at the sight of her and I nodded eagerly. “Are you sure? It’s a little – I’m chunky. And this dress just accentuates the chunkiness –“</p><p>I popped up from the couch and crossed to her, taking her at arm’s length as I looked her up and down. “Absolutely not. This is <i>gorgeous</i> on you. The blue is perfect, I promise. But… you know what we need?”</p><p>She pressed her lips together and gave a small shake of her head. I ducked past her through the beaded curtain of her room and dove into her closet, rifling through the dozens of colorful garments. Finally, I grabbed what I’d been looking for and scampered back. </p><p>Penelope raised her brows at the golden jacket I held up, taking it uncertainly and studying it as she laughed, “are you sure? This is kind of bold…”</p><p>“So are you,” I reminded, nudging her arm and urging her to tug it on. “C’mon. If this guy is worth his salt, he’ll love you for all your bold beauty. No toning yourself down.”</p><p>“Not even a little?” she asked meekly; I shook my head and stepped up to adjust the jacket. “Aria, I’m a little… <i>eccentric</i>. Do you really think he’s gonna like –“</p><p>“Yeah,” I cut in, giving her a small shrug. “Yeah, I do. Wanna know why? Because you’re not just beautiful. You’re more than your killer good looks. You’re easily the sweetest soul I know, and your fashion sense is rivaled only by your amazing sense of humor. When I say you’re a catch, Penelope Garcia, I mean that <i>you are a catch.</i> And if he can’t appreciate you for exactly who you are, he’s not worth your time.”</p><p>Though she nodded, there was the hint of doubt that lingered in her gaze as she looked down at me. She stayed quiet as I sat her on her bed and took my time doing up her makeup and then curling her hair. Only as I slipped her headband on did she finally ask me softly,</p><p>“Can you tell me something honestly?” I stepped back and, as I nodded, she pressed, “I need you to answer this as yourself. Not as a profiler, or – or as my designated best friend and personal cheerleader… but just as <i>you</i>. Okay?”</p><p>“Of course,” I assured, and leave it to Penelope to ask me point-blank the one question I hadn’t been prepared to dodge or brush off that night. </p><p>“Do you think Morgan has a reason to be worried?”</p><p>Here it was. For what had to be the dozenth time, the universe was handing me a way to agree with Morgan and get my best friend to back out of the date. I could be fully honest right now and tell her, <i>yes. He’s right to be worried. We don’t really know this guy. It’s just a little TOO convenient his computer acted up the moment you got there. Every (still growing) profiler bone in my body is telling me this is a bad idea. Just stay home with me and we’ll eat the tub of ice cream in your freezer and fall asleep watching Casablanca for the third night in a row.</i></p><p>Instead, I answered on instinct and told her what I’d been forcing myself to think of as the truth. “I understand he’s worried, and I get where he’s coming from. But you looked into Chris yourself. I mean, he’s an Eagle Scout. His credit score is 780. I didn’t even know it could get that high. You don’t get a credit score like that for being a closeted serial killer.”</p><p>Finally, for the first time that night, a genuine smile came over her face. Man, she’d been beautiful before that, but her grin lit up her entire face and somehow she became just downright <i>stunning</i>. She took the first part of my answer wholeheartedly, and before she could realize I hadn’t really given a yes-or-no answer, she was pulling me into a tight hug. </p><p>“You’re amazing, you know that?” she murmured, clinging tight to me as she took a shaky breath. “I… I know we’ve really only known each other a couple months, but it feels like so much longer, you know? You’re like, pretty much my other half. You seriously mean the world to me, and if you think Chris is okay… I trust you.”</p><p><i>You really shouldn’t,</i> my mind practically cried; I forced the thought away. As we pulled back there was a knock at her door, and I gave her arms a squeeze as I whispered, “go get him, mama bear. I’ll wait up for you, alright?”</p><p>“Oh, my god. Okay. He’s here. Okay. You’ll be right here?” she whispered back, looking between me and the door with wide eyes. I giggled softly and nodded as I gently nudged her towards her waiting date. </p><p>“Right here,” I promised. “Love you, Penny G.”</p><p>“Love you too, honeybee,” she breathed out, and – with a final smooth-down of her dress – she turned and made for the door. I ducked through the hanging beads and hid in her room as I eagerly listened to the two of them. </p><p>“<i>Hey – wow,</i>” Chris greeted, and he gave a soft chuckle. “<i>You look wonderful, Garcia.</i>”</p><p>“<i>Oh, I – thanks. Thank you. You look, you look really great. Just, um, just great.</i>”</p><p>I bit back a snicker and could’ve sworn I felt her glare through the wall. As the door shut and their voices retreated down the stairs, I scampered to her window and peeked through the blinds. Chris had his arm out and Penelope’s own was linked with it; the two of them looked so picturesque I actually <i>aww</i>’d to myself. </p><p>“My little Penelope, all grown up on her first date,” I cooed, grinning as settled myself onto the couch to wait.</p><p>Left alone with the old black-and-white movie and my own thoughts, though, the paranoia began to creep back into my mind. With as freaking exhausted as I was, I still couldn’t get to sleep. After the first hour came and went, my mind began to wander. </p><p>Where had he taken her? Why hadn’t I asked what restaurant they were going to? Did I know what kind of car he drove? I didn’t even know what he was wearing tonight. All I’d seen was a dark suit, which was pretty much the generic ‘first date’ outfit…</p><p><i>She’ll be fine,</i> I insisted, shaking my head and forcing myself to focus on the movie. After the second hour, though, I was literally on my feet, pacing the small apartment relentlessly. I was honestly just a few moments away from going to hunt them down. </p><p><i>He could’ve killed her AND disposed of her body by now,</i> I pointed out to myself, and instantly shook my head. <i>No! Positive thoughts, Aria. Positive thoughts! She’s just fine. Any moment now you’re gonna hear the keys in the door –</i></p><p>What I heard just a moment later was even <i>better</i> than keys. It was the familiar, warm tones of my best friends laughter drifting up from the courtyard of the apartment. Oh thank <i>god</i>, they were back!</p><p>“<i>I… I really enjoyed myself tonight,</i>” I heard her admit as I crowded against the window, grin on my face. Chris gave a chuckle and admitted, </p><p>“<i>Me too. I guess it’s lucky my laptop froze up on me when it did…</i>” </p><p>There was more sweet laughter from the both of them and I forced myself to stop spying on them. I didn’t want to be a creep, at least not more than I’d <i>already</i> just been. Though I kept up my pacing, it wasn’t as frantic. She was right outside, and any moment she’d be running through the door, grin on her face, ready to recount her date word for word. </p><p>It had gone okay. Morgan had worried for nothing. Clearly she’d had a great time, she certainly seemed to be in one piece, and it sounded like there’d even be a second date. </p><p>What had Morgan been so worried about? What had <i>I</i> been so worried about?</p><p>“<i>Hey, Garcia</i>?” Chris called, catching my attention. Ooh, was he about to ask her on a second date?! I actually giggled as I paused in the center of her living room, waiting with bated breath. “<i>I’ve been thinkin’ about doin’ this all night.</i>”</p><p>There was a beat of silence, a beat of waiting.</p><p>There was no question that followed, no giggling. </p><p>The gunshot that broke the silence of the night was all that followed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HAPPY MONDAY!</p><p>First of all, I want to apologize that there was no update last Monday! I posted about what happened on Tumblr but know some of you don't use that site, so let me fill you in! Last week I took a literal last minute trip to Michigan to see my sister and her husband (literally, I booked the flight as I was logging off from work and then raced to the airport. I got to my gate just as they were beginning to board). As I didn't have time to write while I was there, I tried to finish the fic Sunday night. I was falling asleep at the keyboard and discovered I absolutely cannot write when I'm tired so I was gonna post Tuesday. Literally as I had only a few paragraphs to go, my computer shut itself down and completely wiped out this chapter. </p><p>To make up for it, this 15k update is a combination of last week's chapter and this week's chapter! I hope you guys don't mind it being so long but you were all so patient with me that I didn't want to make you wait for what we've got coming up! </p><p>Seriously, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your patience and support! Having to completely rewrite what I'd already done was so incredibly frustrating (I've honestly given up on fics when that's happened before, it's just so heartwrenching to me to lose all that I've done!) but you guys and your support got me to push through and get this done. </p><p>I really, really hope you like how it turned out! This episode has always been one of my favorites (Floyd Feylinn Ferell is still one of my top UnSubs!) so I hope you liked how Aria was incorporated! </p><p>Are you guys ready for the next chapter?! Are we ready for what's about to happen!? How do you think this is gonna play out? Did you suspect who Chris was all along? I tried to trick you guys to give a little plot twist but a lot of you guessed it (I really shouldn't be surprised, you're all CM fans so it's not shocking you profiled my attempted secret). Do you like how this is playing out? I can't wait to hear your thoughts!</p><p>The last couple weeks have been tough but you guys have seriously made me smile through everything else going on! I really, really appreciate each and every one of you that reads this. I can't tell you how much I love the comments you give me and I look forward to hearing from you guys every single week. Please, if you can take the time, I'd love to know what you're thinking after this chapter!</p><p>Thank you guys again. I love you all, and have a wonderful week! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Bloodstains & Burdens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x09 - Penelope</i>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/626716309184544768/chapter-21-is-up">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Penelope’s blood seeped through my fingers, running heavily down the backs of my hands and pooling onto the cement steps beneath her. Deep crimson stained my skirt and darkened my skin; it glinted off the gold jacket I’d slipped onto her just hours ago. There were voices behind me, sirens in the distance, but all that mattered was my best friend bleeding out beneath me.  </p>
<p>“Penny, hey, keep your eyes open,” I begged as her lids began to flutter again. When she didn’t respond I hastily wiped my blood-slicked hand on my shirt and then cupped her cheek. “Penelope, with me. With me, <i>please</i>!”</p>
<p>Slowly her eyes opened a bit more and her glassy gaze locked onto me. Her lips moved but no words came out; my hardly-beating heart wrenched painfully in my chest. A woman at my side – one of Penelope’s neighbors – was telling me something about an ambulance, paramedics, but I couldn’t focus on that. They weren’t here. They weren’t helping right now. </p>
<p>My best friend whimpered under my hold and I quickly put my other hand back over the wound. She blinked slowly up at me, a tear sliding down her cheek; I fought to hold in my own. If I started crying I’d lose it. I couldn’t. I had to be strong for Penelope. </p>
<p>“It’s okay, Penny. It’s alright. It’s gonna be okay,” I promised, forcing back a sob and willing my voice to hold steady as her eyes fluttered again. “I promise you you’re gonna be just fine.”</p>
<p>There was a rush of footsteps behind me and then a firm hand wrapped over my upper arm, pulling me back. Instinct took over and I rolled my shoulder roughly, breaking the hold and hunkering down over my best friend. </p>
<p>“Ma’am, it’s alright, we’re here to help,” a woman promised, angling me back with more force this time. I slumped onto the step beside Penelope and watched in a near-daze as the paramedics swarmed my best friend. </p>
<p>“GSW, chest through abdomen,” the woman who’d pushed me back reported. More paramedics swarmed and chaos erupted around us. </p>
<p>“<i>BP ninety over fifty and dropping</i> –“</p>
<p>“<i>Get a backboard and a C-collar</i> –”</p>
<p>“<i>Call it in, get the OR prepped</i> –“</p>
<p>“Ma’am, can you hear me?” one of the other paramedics asked, shining a light into Penny’s eyes. I pushed onto my knees, desperate to be close to her again, saying quickly,  </p>
<p>“Penelope. Her – her name’s Penelope,” I told him urgently, and he nodded as he tried again, </p>
<p>“Penelope. Can you hear me?” Penny’s eyes fluttered shut and he shook his head. “She’s in and out of consciousness. BP’s 60 and dropping.”</p>
<p>The paramedic stood and circled the scene, gently taking hold of my arm and carefully pulling me to me feet and maneuvering me back. “You’re her friend?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m her – she’s mine,” I stammered out. <i>Don’t cry. Don’t break. Keep it together.</i> I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could focus on was the raspy, weakening breaths she struggled to take in and the chill of her blood drying on my skin. </p>
<p>“Can you tell us what happened?”</p>
<p>“She – she was coming back from a date. And I heard laughing, and then he – he said something, and there was a gunshot –“ </p>
<p>“Ma’am I need you to breathe for me, okay?” he coaxed, hand rubbing up and down my arm. “There you go. Nice and slow.”</p>
<p>I took a handful of shallow breaths, forcing my mind to go back over what had happened. Chris had said… he’d said something. And then there was laughter – no. Had the laughter come first? Wait. Did he shoot her and <i>then</i> say something –</p>
<p>“<i>On three – one, two, three</i>!” </p>
<p>My head snapped up in time to see Penelope lifted into the air on the backboard and I shoved past the paramedic trying to calm me down. I was at her side in the next instant, for the first time wholeheartedly grateful for my small size that let me slip between the paramedics without hindering them as they sat her onto the stretcher. </p>
<p>Penelope’s eyes opened and my heart surged. One of the paramedics leaned down and asked, “miss, can you tell me your name?”</p>
<p>“I… Penelope Garcia,” she whispered, and my aching heart surged against my chest. She was responsive! She couldn’t move much, but her eyes slid to the side and when they locked onto me she whimpered; her fingers twitched and instantly I took her hand in mine. </p>
<p>As I tried to follow her to the ambulance, though, two of the paramedics stepped up to block my path. Unbridled, protective anger surged to the top of absolute terror and I snarled, </p>
<p>“I’m going with her!”</p>
<p>“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we can’t have you in the back –“</p>
<p>“I have to go –“</p>
<p>“She’s unstable and we need all room for our EMT’s,” the other explained; he kept a firm hold on my shoulder to keep me from shoving past like I was trying to do. “We’re taking her to Sentara Northern. You can follow behind, it’s only about a ten-minute drive.”</p>
<p>I didn’t have a choice. My only other option was to try and fight back, but it could keep Penelope from getting to the hospital… I just gave a shaky nod and took a step back. The paramedic gave a reassuring squeeze and before he turned away I said quickly, </p>
<p>“Please just – just hold her hand. Don’t let her feel like she’s alone. Please.”</p>
<p>He paused as he went to climb onto the ambulance, looking back, and he gave a simple nod. I was spinning on my heel, sprinting back into Penelope’s apartment before they even shut the ambulance door. </p>
<p>There was no time to wash the blood off. As soon as I burst inside I beelined for my purse and I was back out the door in the next heartbeat. It took me two tries to get my phone out; my hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold onto it as I hit my #2 speed dial on the way to the parking lot. </p>
<p>The phone rang twice on the other end. “This is –“</p>
<p>“Hotch,” I cut in, my voice breaking at the sound of his. “It’s – it’s so bad, Hotch.”</p>
<p>The ambulance took off and I heard a noise of alarm on the other end. “Are those sirens? Aria, what’s –“</p>
<p>“Penelope was shot. “</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Since the moment I’d set foot in the hospital, I hadn’t stopped pacing. My arms were wrapped tight around myself, holding in the sickening, heart wrenching terror that was pulsing through my body. The only update I’d been given was that she was being taken into surgery. That was it. That was all I got to hear, and it wasn’t enough to quell the panic. </p>
<p>As I turned to pace back through the small waiting area, the figure I’d been desperately waiting for stepped into view. Hotch was in the same suit-and-tie from when we’d landed; had he even gone home between then and my phone call? For once, his face wasn’t stoic. There was honest, burning concern softening his features, and his dark eyes instantly swept over my frantic form. </p>
<p>Wordlessly, he crossed the waiting room and he pulled me to him without hesitation, ducking just a hint to let me wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him with the little strength I was holding onto. The sob I’d been forcing back ripped out of my throat and I broke down in his arms now that it was safe to do so. It was gonna be okay, because Hotch was here. I wasn’t alone in this. Hotch was here with me and he’d fix this. He’d – I didn’t know what he’d do, but he’d do <i>something</i>. </p>
<p>At some point in my crying he’d moved us to one of the couches. He sank down next to me and I shifted to slip my arms tight around his waist and bury my face against his chest. He kept one arm firm around my shoulders, holding me to him, and the other ran in soothing waves up and down my trembling back. </p>
<p>If he minded getting blood over his suit, he never said a word. It struck me that he was probably used to it by now and oddly enough, that thought was comforting. It meant this wasn’t new to him. He’d faced terrible things before, things that got your clothes bloody and broke the people around you, and he had come out on top. It just assured me things were going to be okay with Hotch here. </p>
<p>Only once I’d marginally calmed down did he lean back to take me in. Gentler than I’d ever seen him, the hand rubbing my back came up to brush my hair back from my tear-stained face. He took in my blood-soaked clothes and his brow somehow managed to furrow into deeper concern. </p>
<p>“Are <i>you</i> alright?” he asked me in concern. I gave what had to be the world’s most unconvincing nod, and his look didn’t waver. “The amount of blood on you is telling me otherwise.”</p>
<p>“I’m – physically, I’m okay,” I rasped, going to wipe at my eyes. Hotch caught my wrist and I caught sight of my hand, practically coated in Penelope’s blood. Instead, he leaned back and grabbed a tissue, and – to my surprise – he reached up and dried my cheeks for me before pressing it into my hand. Sometimes I forgot Hotch was actually a dad. </p>
<p>Heels clicking on the tile caught our attention and both of us looked up as JJ rounded the corner. Her own teary eyes met mine and her lower lip trembled. Hotch slowly pulled back from me and before I could miss his hold, JJ took his place. </p>
<p>“I’ve got blood all over –“</p>
<p>“I don’t care,” she dismissed instantly. Her small arms somehow held me even tighter than Hotch had and I folded up against her. </p>
<p>“I’ll see if I can get an update,” he said quietly, his hand briefly resting on JJ’s shoulder before he headed towards the nurses station down the hall.</p>
<p>As he disappeared from sight, JJ gave me a squeeze and said softly, “hey, let’s go get you cleaned up, alright?”</p>
<p>Instantly I tensed and looked to where Hotch had just gone. “But what if Penelope –“</p>
<p>“Trust me, kiddo, you’re gonna feel a lot better with a few layers of blood taken off,” she assured, getting to her feet and holding out her hands. When I didn’t immediately move to take them, she wiggled her fingers in invitation. “Come on. We’ll be quick.”</p>
<p>With a small nod, I slid my hands into hers and let her pull me to my feet. Her arm wrapped tight around my shoulders and she led me down the hall, easing the bathroom door open with her hip and ushering me inside. </p>
<p>It was surreal, scrubbing off my arms and hands, watching the crimson drops fall against the ceramic like they’d fallen onto the concrete steps. Flashes of Penelope’s glazed eyes and her bloodstained jacket flickered into my mind and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing them away. </p>
<p>Thankfully JJ was there with me, helping to ground me when I started to get too lost in my thoughts. She rested a hand against my lower back as her other swiped at my face and neck with a damp paper towel. </p>
<p>As soon as the water ran clear again, JJ shifted to stand behind me. Even in my heels she was still several inches over me, and she easily swept my curls back from my face. She twisted them up into a quick bun and used her own hair tie to secure them back. Her hands smoothed down onto my shoulders and she squeezed them as she met my eyes in the mirror. </p>
<p>“Better?” she asked softly; I sniffed and gave a small nod. With my affirmation, JJ used her hold on me to steer me out of the bathroom and back down to the small waiting area. Hotch was standing stone-still against the wall and he looked down as we approached. </p>
<p>“She’s in surgery, but no word past that,” he reported, and I gave another small nod. JJ kept pushing me until we reached the couch again, and she eased me down again, then perched on the edge of the seat next to me. </p>
<p>“Do you have your go-bag?” when I shook my head, she nodded and pulled out her phone. “I’ll have Emily bring you a change of clothes, alright?” </p>
<p>I wanted to thank JJ as she got up but the words just wouldn’t come; I couldn’t speak. The ache in my chest was so powerful it overwhelmed me; the exhaustion was even worse. I’d been up for… thirty? Had it been thirty hours? That felt about right. </p>
<p>I leaned forward wearily, elbows resting on my knees as I dropped my face into my hands. I’d lost count at how many times I’d done that over the last two days. A wave of fatigue pulsed through me and I actually felt myself sway. But the moment my eyes shut, Penelope’s bloodied body on the steps flashed into view and I forced them open. </p>
<p>Someone sank onto the seat beside me and the comforting smell of fresh laundry and old leather wreathed around me. Reid sat so close his leg rested against mine and I instantly reveled in the feeling, grateful to have his subtle touch to ground me again. </p>
<p>The two of us sat in silence for a moment. Reid kept his gaze straight ahead but he didn’t pull back from me. His hands fiddled with the edge of his sweater, the clasp of his watch, and finally he cleared his throat. </p>
<p>“In the Lascaux caves in central France, there’s a prehistoric map of the sky that dates back about 16,500 years. It’s the oldest to actually show star clusters we still identify today. One is the Summer Triangle, and the other is the Pleiades cluster. Scientists also recently found a drawing of the Northern Crown constellation. That one’s about 14,000 years old, in the Cueva di El Castillo cave in Spain. They’re among the oldest document maps of the stars and it helps lend credibility to the theory that our ancestors were much more advanced than we originally thought.”</p>
<p>His cadence was soft and sweet, the words gently brushing over my raw, aching nerves like waves on the sand. Each sentence soothed the pain just a hint, eased up the tightness in my chest, pushed down the anguish enough that as he finally went quiet I managed to take my first deep breath. </p>
<p>“You’ll need to show me the maps someday. I’d love to see those,” I whispered to him in the silence that settled between us. I shifted to look up at him and he turned to look down. Those gentle, warm eyes crinkled at the edges with the smile he gave. I did my best to return it as I whispered, “thank you.”</p>
<p>“You’re welcome,” he said just as softly, bobbing his head as he brought a hand up to tuck his hair back behind his ear. “We’ll look at them. I think you’d appreciate them.”</p>
<p>Before I could tell him that <i>yes, yes I definitely would</i>, two more of our team joined us in the waiting area. Both Rossi and Emily paused when they caught sight of me; I had to look like an absolute mess. A quick glance down at my clothes confirmed that I did indeed look like I’d just slaughtered a small village. <i>Yeesh</i>.</p>
<p>“I’ve got clothes for you,” Emily offered, holding out a plastic bag to me. Reid gave me a parting smile as I murmured another <i>thanks</i> and pushed to my feet. Just like JJ had, Emily instantly engulfed me and hugged me tight to her – apparently no one on this team minded blood on their clothes – and then took me down the hall. </p>
<p>“I figured a dress was the best choice,” she prefaced as we stepped into the bathroom and I tugged out her clothes. As I held up what she’d brought me, I caught sight of the <i>Jonathan Simkhai</i> tag and my eyes widened. </p>
<p>Instantly I went to hand it back to her, shaking my head. “Em, this is a name-brand dress! I can’t wear this!”</p>
<p>“What? Why not? I know you’ve got more curves than me but it should fit you –“</p>
<p>“This dress has to be at least $400,” I told her, pressing it to her when she didn’t grab it from me. “There’s no way I’m putting this on.”</p>
<p>She chuckled and gently pushed the dress towards me, careful not to push it against my bloodstained shirt. “Take it, <i>please</i>. I’ve never worn it and I’m never going to. You’ll get more use out of it than me.”</p>
<p>Frowning, I looked down at the expensive dress and then back up to her. It definitely didn’t look like something she’d ever wear; Emily wasn’t a <i>baby blue lace</i> kind of girl. “Why do you have a $400 name-brand dress if you’re never planning to wear it?” </p>
<p>“My mother bought it for me to wear to some events she expected me to attend,” Emily grimaced, eyeing the dress with disdain. “Trust me. You taking it will be a favor for me.”</p>
<p>“Em…” When I hesitated still, she laughed softly and nudged me towards the stall. </p>
<p>“I’m not taking <i>no</i> for an answer.”</p>
<p>With a final sigh accepting my defeat – and not wanting to miss any updates on Penelope – I reluctantly went into the stall. Peeling off my bloodstained clothes was much more of a feat than I expected, and I grimaced seeing the smears over my stomach and legs. “Uh, Em? Could you –“</p>
<p>A handful of wet paper towels was instantly held under the stall doors. Smiling to myself and murmuring my thanks, I took them and cleaned myself up as best I could. The dress fit surprisingly well, considering I was <i>definitely</i> ‘curvier’ than Emily was. It was a little snug in the hips, but anything beat my bloody clothes. </p>
<p>Emily beamed at me as I stepped out, taking the bundle of my old clothes and stuffing them in the plastic bag for me as I washed my hands. “You look stunning in that. I’ve got dozens more of those for you.”</p>
<p>“Nope, absolutely not,” I said instantly, turning to frown at her as I led us out of the bathroom. “One $400 dress is more than enough for a lifetime.”</p>
<p>“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, and then smirked as she told me, “that dress is $600.”</p>
<p>“<i>Emily</i> –“ I squeaked, gaping at her and moving to take my bag of clothes back. “I’m not wearing this –“</p>
<p>“Too late,” she informed me, looping an arm around my waist and practically hauling me back to the others. The rest of the team were standing together, all with different levels of worried frowns on their faces. Rossi turned as we approached and he held his arms open to me, tucking me to his side as I accepted the hug. </p>
<p>“Any news?” I asked, continuing to lean against him. Hotch shook his head and told Emily and I, </p>
<p>“The responding officers think it’s a botched robbery.”</p>
<p>A robbery? Had it – had it been Chris? Or had someone attacked her after he left? I should’ve been nosy; I should’ve peeked outside, checked on her…</p>
<p>“The nurses said they can’t give us any updates yet,” JJ added as she came up on Hotch’s side, sighing in frustration</p>
<p>“Morgan’s phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,” Reid told us, coming back to stand with us as well as he tucked his cell away. </p>
<p>Morgan. I’d completely forgotten about Morgan. </p>
<p>Emily made a noise of surprise as sick guilt began to creep into my chest. “What?! Where the hell is he?”</p>
<p><i>Are you really willin’ to take that risk? To let Penelope take that risk</i>?</p>
<p>His words from just a few hours ago hit me like a punch to the stomach. I actually lost my breath, legs going weak. Rossi felt me tense in his hold and instantly he ducked to meet my eyes. </p>
<p>“Kiddo?” I had to look as bad as I felt because instantly he moved to pull me towards the couch. “Alright. Let’s sit you down.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t certain. There was no way to know who had shot Penelope. It might not have been Chris; for all we knew, the date had gone great. There was no telling who had hurt her –</p>
<p><i>Then why do you feel so guilty</i>? I asked myself as I sunk down into the seat. Just as he had done in Florida, Hotch came over and knelt in front of me, hand to my knee to get my attention. </p>
<p>“When’s the last time you ate?” </p>
<p>Images of chili popped into my mind and instantly my stomach flip-flopped. “Um, I had some tea on the plane. But with the case, with Ferell –“</p>
<p>Hotch thankfully nodded, stopping me from reviving the nausea I’d spent hours fighting back. He stood and skirted past the others down the hall without another word. The cushion next to me sank down and once again Reid was at my side. He leaned back into the couch and I copied his movements so I could turn and meet his gaze. </p>
<p>“You haven’t slept in a while, have you?” he questioned, and I shook my head. “You should try and get some rest. The – um, Garcia will probably be in surgery for a while longer.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I can sleep,” I admitted. He nodded in understanding, but before he could say more, Hotch was kneeling in front of me again. He had a bag of Cheez-Its and a bag of pretzels, both of which he sat beside me. </p>
<p>“These should hold you over until we can get you some real food.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Hotch,” I said softly, grabbing the bag of pretzels and giving him a smile. He gave my knee another squeeze before getting up. JJ and Emily settled in the seats across from us as Hotch and Rossi gathered further out, stationed to receive news the moment anyone could bring us any. </p>
<p>I popped open the bag and took a pretzel, then held it out to Reid. He chuckled but shook his head. “I’m alright. You need them more than I do.”</p>
<p>Knowing better than to try and argue with him – and honestly not even having the strength or willpower – I settled against the couch as I slowly went through both bags of snacks. I had no idea when I’d actually slipped into a restless sleep. One moment I was counting the number of times Hotch paced past me, and the next a gentle hand settled on my arm. </p>
<p>My eyes peeled open and blinked slowly, looking around. My cheek was pillowed against something soft and I tipped my head back, coming nearly face-to-face with Reid. I’d slumped over in my sleep, right onto Reid’s shoulder. </p>
<p>“’M sorry,” I mumbled quickly, righting myself and trying to will the blush on my cheeks to die down. He didn’t look bothered as he pulled his hand back. Before I could ask why he’d woken me – hoping for news on Penelope – I saw the last member of our team had joined us. </p>
<p>Morgan was standing with Hotch and Rossi, with JJ and Emily getting up to meet him as well. </p>
<p>“She’s been in surgery for a couple hours,” JJ was telling him; my eyes widened. Hours? How long had I been sleeping?? How long had I been sleeping <i>on Reid</i>?!</p>
<p>“I had my phone off,” Morgan said quickly. He hadn’t seen me yet, and part of me wanted it to stay that way. Except, of course, it was Reid that told him,  </p>
<p>“There’s nothing you could’ve been doing here.”</p>
<p>His gaze flicked our direction for a moment, went back to JJ, and then instantly snapped back when he realized I was beside Reid; I froze on the couch. Reid felt the movement and glanced down at me, turning and following my wide-eyed gaze to Morgan. </p>
<p>“What about the police? They got any leads?” he asked the others; his eyes didn’t leave mine and I sunk even lower. </p>
<p>Hotch, again, shook his head. “I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn’t think we’ll get anything from the scene.”</p>
<p>Morgan’s eyes darkened a hint; he knew I hadn’t mentioned anything about her date to the team. Before he could call me out – like he was just about to do – a voice from behind him asked,</p>
<p>“Penelope Garcia?” Various voices of <i>yes</i> came from the others as a doctor approached our group. “The bullet went in her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood.”</p>
<p>My heart skittered to a stop and I doubled over face falling into my hands; I couldn’t breathe. A comforting hand flitted to my arm; Reid’s fingers curled gently over my wrist and he gave a steady, reassuring squeeze. </p>
<p>“What are you saying?” JJ pressed, unable to take the tension. I held my breath, trembling, bracing for the worst. </p>
<p>“It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries.” I let out a silent sob of relief and practically melted in on myself. “One centimeter over and it would’ve torn right through her heart. If she’d lost any more blood, she would’ve been too far gone. Instead… well, she could walk out of here in a couple of days. I’d say that’s a minor miracle. She needs to rest, but you can see her in the morning.”</p>
<p>The others around us gave a collective sigh of relief and Reid’s hand tightened on me. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, the relief so powerful I could barely breathe still. My best friend was okay. Penelope was okay. <i>She’s okay. She’s okay.</i></p>
<p>Reid stood up, his fingers slipping off my wrist, and instantly I missed his touch. I lifted my head and quickly wiped my cheeks off, following his lead and meekly shuffling up to the others; I didn’t dare risk looking at Morgan. </p>
<p>“Alright. Dave and I will go to the scene,” Hotch decided, looking around at all of us. “I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don’t care about protocol, I don’t care whether we’re working this officially or not. We don’t touch any new cases until we find out who did this.”</p>
<p>As our group all nodded in understanding, Hotch reached out and settled his hand on my shoulder, gently tugging me a little ways down the hall, away from the others. When I looked up at him, I saw the fatherly concern on his face and realized exactly what he was about to say.  </p>
<p>“Aria –“</p>
<p>“I’m not leaving.”</p>
<p>Hotch’s lips twitched towards a smile, hand on my shoulder giving a squeeze. “I’m a profiler. I’ve already realized that would be a fruitless effort. I don’t expect you to leave, but I <i>do</i> want you to at least attempt to get a little more rest. Between this and the last case, you’re worn through emotionally.”</p>
<p>“I’ll try,” I told him honestly with a small smile. He gave an understanding nod, and then pulled me to him. Instantly my arms slid tight around his waist and I buried my face against his suit as he hugged me tight. </p>
<p>Only as he pulled away did I realize I should’ve mentioned Penelope’s date. He and Rossi were already stepping onto the elevator and the doors slid shut before I could call out to them. The guilt in my chest instantly doubled when I turned back to the rest of the team. </p>
<p>Morgan was already staring me down. His jaw was tense, thick brows drawn together in a scowl. Reid, Emily, and JJ had taken note of his posture, and they followed his glare to stare at me in question. Morgan and I held stone still for several more moments until he finally growled out, </p>
<p>“I need’a talk to you.”</p>
<p>My heart skipped a beat and I squeaked out, “Morgan –“ </p>
<p>“Now.”</p>
<p>He turned on his heel, stalking the opposite way down the hall, knowing I would follow. I didn’t meet others’ stares as I scurried past them, hurrying after Morgan. When we reached the end of the hall he turned the corner – making sure we were well away from the other three – and then he spun on his heel to face me. </p>
<p>“Is there <i>any</i> chance this was her date?” he demanded, voice thick with anger. Tears instantly welled in my eyes and my throat tightened with guilt. When I didn’t answer instantly he barked, “<i>Aria</i> –“</p>
<p>“Yes,” I whispered quickly, a tear slipping down my cheek; I wiped it away with a shaking hand. “There’s – there’s a chance. I don’t – I didn’t see anything, though. I heard them talking before, but then –“</p>
<p>“And you didn’t think to say anything to Hotch?” he asked incredulously, voice rising, fury burning. I shrunk under his glare. </p>
<p>“H-Hotch said they think it was a robbery, so we don’t know it’s –“</p>
<p>“<i>He could’ve been the robber, Aria</i>!” he snarled, throwing his hands up. I flinched away from him on instinct, sinking against the wall. “This is <i>exactly</i> what I was afraid of. I told you. I <i>know</i> you were doubtin’ her date too, an’ you went an’ sent her right into danger just to get a few moments of Garcia pattin’ you on the back for bein’ such a great friend!”</p>
<p>His words hurt, but it was nothing compared to the guilt ripping through me. More tears fell and I shrunk even lower. In a very quiet, very shaky voice I tried, “it might not have been him –“</p>
<p>“Don’t you <i>dare</i> try to give yourself an out right now, Aria,” he warned, taking a step towards me, finger jamming my direction. My words dried up and my quivering lips pressed tight together. I couldn’t think of the last time he’d used my real name, and he’d just used it three times. Hell, had he <i>ever</i> used it before? </p>
<p>“Morgan, I didn’t think that –“</p>
<p>“Yeah, trust me, I know you didn’t think. <i>Clearly</i> you didn’t. If you’d have just listened to me, Penelope wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t be hurt. She wouldn’t have almost <i>died</i>. Do you understand that? Do you understand how damn close we came to losin’ her tonight?” </p>
<p><i>Of course I do. She was bleeding out right under my hands,</i> I wanted to say; I couldn’t form the sentence. As the silence began to stretch between us he shook his head and admitted, </p>
<p>“I can’t do this. I can’t look at you right now.”</p>
<p>The words hit like a slap to the face and I stared up at him, stunned. He was already turning away, breathing hard, hands running over his head as he tried to calm himself down. Slowly, I pushed off the wall and took a step forward, reaching my hand out towards him. He stilled instantly, body tensing when he heard me moving closer</p>
<p>My hand froze in mid-air, and I moved back the step I’d just taken. My hands curled to my chest tears falling hard as I choked out, “I’m so sorry, Derek.”</p>
<p>He didn’t answer me, didn’t even turn to look at me, and I couldn’t take it anymore. A sob tore from my throat as I turned and rushed down the hall, leaving Morgan and the others behind. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p><b><span class="u">Spencer</span></b> </p>
<p>The concern burning in inside Spencer doubled instantly when only Morgan came back to the waiting area. Emily and JJ, on either side of him, instantly turned and crossed their arms, but Spencer was the first to speak.  </p>
<p>“Where’s Aria?”</p>
<p>Morgan’s dark gaze flitted to him for a heartbeat, and then skipped over his shoulder; avoiding eye contact. Spencer was what he considered to be a generally calm person – he hardly ever felt anything past minor aggravation with most things. With every second Morgan didn’t answer him, though, the anger that usually lay dormant deep inside him began to rise. </p>
<p>“You want to tell us what that was about?” Emily pressed, tone sharp and leaving no room for argument. Morgan, still not looking at her, said quietly, </p>
<p>“There’s a chance the guy who shot Garcia was this guy that asked her out. I didn’t want her goin’ out with this guy and Aria talked her into it. She just completely disregarded –“</p>
<p>“Hey, woah, back it up,” Emily cut in, actually putting a hand up to him to pause his words. “Don’t tell me you’re blaming her.”</p>
<p>Again, no answer. Something dangerously close to fury sparked in Spencer’s chest. He wanted to say something – say <i>anything</i> – but he had no idea <i>what</i> that should be. Morgan was his best friend, at this point more of a brother than anything. He knew how much he cared for Garcia, and everyone reacted to trauma and distress differently. Regardless of where his heart and mind were at didn’t excuse him from being unfairly harsh to Aria. Not after what she’d just been through. </p>
<p><i>That, actually, would be a very good thing to say,</i> Spencer realized, but JJ was already on top of things before he could try to vocalize his thoughts. </p>
<p>“<i>Morgan</i>,” she started slowly, clearly the calmest of the three of them; that really wasn’t saying much at the moment. “You have to know how completely unfair that is. If – and yes, it’s an <i>if</i> – it even <i>was</i> the guy she went out with, that’s not anyone’s fault.”</p>
<p>“I told the both’a them that he was bad news and neither listened –“</p>
<p>Emily scoffed and cut in, “what, did you know this guy personally?”</p>
<p>“I – no, ‘course not,” he threw out, scowling down at her; Emily raised a dangerous brow in challenge. </p>
<p>“Well, did Aria or Garcia know him?”</p>
<p>“No,” he bit out slower, having clearly realized where this was going. Emily and JJ shared a look and JJ pointed out, </p>
<p>“Then there was no way to know he could’ve been bad news –“</p>
<p>“Well <i>I</i> knew!” Morgan argued, and Emily snapped, </p>
<p>“No, Derek, you made an assumption and you just so happened to be right.”</p>
<p>Spencer knew his best friend well enough to know when he felt trapped. He wasn’t arguing now because he truly felt he was right; he was arguing because he felt guilty. The words left Spencer’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. “Are you honestly upset with Aria, or are you upset with yourself that you couldn’t protect Garcia, just like she is?”</p>
<p>Morgan’s dark eyes glanced his way, and the moment their gazes met Morgan was looking away again. Spencer had his answer. He nodded and pressed his lips together, starting to skirt past the other three. Morgan’s hand shot out and, careful not to touch him, Morgan motioned for him to pause. </p>
<p>“Where’re you goin’, kid?”</p>
<p>“I’m going to find Aria. She shouldn’t be alone right now,” he began, and at the look that came over his friends face, he softened his tone add, “Garcia needs all of us together, on the same page.”</p>
<p>Morgan’s hand dropped and he just managed a simple nod, letting Spencer pass. JJ caught his eye and gave a small smile, assuring she and Emily would handle Morgan. He followed the hall that the two of them had gone down, sweeping the corridor for any sign of her. </p>
<p>The concern inside him ached a little more as he reached the end of the hall without spotting her. What if she’d managed to leave? Whatever Morgan had said to her, it had probably just torn her down even more than she’d already done to herself. With how exhausted she was, after all that had happened on the case just hours before, being by herself was the last thing Aria needed. </p>
<p>As he started down the next hall, his hands fell to his pockets, searching for his phone. Frustration welled at the realization he must’ve left it at home in his haste to get to the hospital. As he was contemplating going back to have one of the others call her, he passed by another waiting area and caught a glimpse of baby blue out of the corner of his eye. </p>
<p>Aria was standing with her back to him, arms wrapped tight around herself, shoulders shaking as she cried silently to herself. Spencer’s heart dropped to his stomach, seeing her looking so small and vulnerable. Normally, comforting people was something he tried to avoid at all costs. He had no idea what to say, what to do… he didn’t understand half the emotions he ended up trying to face, and usually he just made it worse. </p>
<p>She was different. </p>
<p>No matter what he did, no matter the situation, he always seemed to put a smile on her face. Admittedly, there was a chance it was simply because she was just such a nice person; she’d just smile to acknowledge he was trying. To him, that made <i>much</i> more sense than the alternative. </p>
<p>Statistically speaking, based off the past twenty-six years of experience, it simply didn’t make sense that she’d smile because he’d genuinely helped her feel better. Spencer Reid just wasn’t the type of man to cheer up others and get in touch with unspoken emotions, let alone help to detangle the messes that came along with them. </p>
<p>Sure, Aria did it for him almost daily. It was just second nature for her to light up any room she entered, to brighten even the darkest corners of Spencer’s mind. It came effortlessly to her to soothe the confusion and heartache and frustration that he ran through day-to-day without even blinking an eye. </p>
<p>That’s why he always had to try to cheer her up. Even if he wasn’t great at it, and even if her reaction <i>was</i> just to placate him… it was still a smile, at least. And with all she did for him without even knowing, he owed her all he could give. If Aria could put him back on his feet after a case metaphorically took him to his knees, the least he could do was try and talk to her. </p>
<p>As he approached her, he saw her body tense and she looked back quickly, relaxing just a hint when she saw who it was. He offered a small smile and though she tried to give one back, her trembling lips hardly turned up. </p>
<p>When he reached her side she asked him softly, “what’re you doing here?”</p>
<p>She didn’t sound upset he’d shown up, she seemed genuinely confused as to why he was there. His heart sunk a little more. Did she really not think that he or the others weren’t concerned when she didn’t come back?</p>
<p>“I was worried about you,” he told her. She didn’t look up at him, but he saw her brows pinch together in a frown; more confusion. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” she told him through the tears. If she wasn’t so upset he would’ve teased her about being an absolutely awful liar. Though she wiped her cheeks off, more tears fell down them almost instantly. “I just… I don’t think I should be around right now.”</p>
<p>“Why would you think that?” he knew the answer, of course he did, but he needed her to tell him. If she kept pretending nothing was wrong, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. At first, she kept quiet. Her arms tightened around herself and she gave a small shake of her head. Spencer spoke before he thought about what he was saying. “Please let me help you. I want to help.”</p>
<p>Finally, she looked up at him. Her hazel eyes were a clear emerald, more green than brown now, with soft flecks of gold shimmering behind the tears. He let himself get lost in her gaze as she looked him over for any signs he wasn’t being truthful. As if she expected him to truly not care what was bothering her. </p>
<p>He knew that look; it was one he held often. The look of someone expecting everyone else to automatically dismiss what they had to say, to ask a question and not truly want a reply. She was waiting for him to show any sign of disinterest; he held her gaze, solid and unwavering.</p>
<p>“This is all my fault,” she finally admitted to him, voice catching on the words. “If it hadn’t been for me, Penelope wouldn’t have been shot.”</p>
<p>“Aria, if it hadn’t been for you, Garcia would’ve died. The doctor said <i>if she’d lost any more blood, she would’ve been too far gone</i>. If you hadn’t been right there to stop the bleeding –“</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare try and credit me with anything,” she nearly snapped at him, sharply turning away and nearly putting her back to him. It was the first time she’d <i>ever</i> raised her voice at him and he was completely at a loss for what to do. “If it wasn’t for me she never would’ve gone on that date. None of this would’ve happened.”</p>
<p>Spencer’s face fell and now he moved for her, reaching out and resting his fingers lightly against her arm. She sniffed and leaned just a hint into his touch, though she didn’t look at him. “Aria… this isn’t your fault. I – I don’t know what things you’re telling yourself, or what Morgan said to you –”</p>
<p>“He told me all I wanted was to look like a good friend, and if I’d just listened to him she wouldn’t have almost –“ Aria cut off with a choked sob and hunched in further on herself. Spencer shook his head, trying to keep the anger repressed, knowing it wouldn’t do anything to help. </p>
<p>“He had no right to say that to you –“</p>
<p>“He did, though. It’s true. That’s why it hurts so much,” she sniffed as her shoulders hunched further down. “He was right, Reid. He told me over and over that this guy was bad news and I just ignored him <i>and</i> my instincts because I didn’t want to hurt Penelope’s feelings.”</p>
<p>Spencer was silent for several long moments. He <i>knew</i> exactly what he wanted to say, but if he knew Aria – and he liked to think he did – she wouldn’t truly believe his words. No matter how many times he tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t going to let herself off the hook. With all the guilt she was feeling –</p>
<p>Guilt. </p>
<p>Aria and <i>guilt</i>.</p>
<p>His mind instantly patched the two words together and suddenly he was back several months ago, in a field in Dallas. She’d spoken about guilt and she’d helped someone else see their way past the blame they were trying to put on themselves…</p>
<p>He knew exactly what to say to her. </p>
<p>“<i>We are not responsible for the decisions someone else makes. What we control is how we handle fallout of those decisions</i>,” Spencer said softly. He’d turned to look down at her and he saw her head cock to the side as she processed what he’d told her. Finally she turned to look up at him again. </p>
<p>Her teary eyes blinked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“That’s what you told Detective Yarbrough,” he explained, watching the realization light up behind her eyes. “You told him not to blame himself for what happened to Michelle Colucci. That he couldn’t be expected to know when a criminal would choose to attack.”</p>
<p>She sighed, clearly at a loss for how to argue with him over the words she’d said herself. “Yeah, but this is different. Morgan told me –“</p>
<p>“He gave you his opinion,” Spencer argued gently, shaking his head. “The only thing he had to back up what he said was his own feelings, just like you had for <i>your</i> decision to encourage Garcia. When you look at the probability of how the night could turn out, it was – to put it simply – a fifty-fifty shot for either of you to be right. It just so happens that his side of the coin was the one that landed face-up, so to speak.”</p>
<p>Aria’s eyes flickered between his own, looking for <i>any</i> sign he wasn’t being truthful. Again, he held her stare firmly, letting his unrelenting honesty show through as much as he could. She pressed her lips together and finally asked in a small voice, “do you blame me?”</p>
<p>“No. Not at all,” he said instantly, giving a small shake of his head. “Neither does JJ, or Emily, <i>or</i> Morgan. He’s scared for Garcia, and he’s upset with himself, just like you are. He doesn’t really blame you. None of us do, I promise.”</p>
<p>The pain on her face <i>finally</i> began to crack. The smallest hint of a smile fluttered over her lips as she sniffed and wiped at her cheeks again. She could hear the genuine tone in his voice, see the honesty in the gaze he didn’t move from hers, and hopefully she was letting it start to settle in. </p>
<p>She turned to fully face him, and for a moment Spencer didn’t get what she was doing. She stepped forward, arms reaching out for him, fingers nearly brushing his sweater before she paused. </p>
<p>A hug. She’d been moving to hug him.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Aria said quickly, starting to pull back, giving an apologetic grimace. “You hate touch and I sort of… well, I kind of always get up in your space. I’m sorry.” She paused, and then actually winced as she added, “and I totally used you as a pillow earlier. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Yes. Yes, she had used him as a pillow. For seventy-three minutes she’d slept restlessly against him, and he hadn’t minded one bit. Maybe it was a bit over-the-top to say so, but he’d felt special that she’d felt safe and comfortable enough to lean on him. No one ever had before, and he realized right then he would let her do it again in a heartbeat. Her touch didn’t bother him, and he could count on one hand the number of people he could truly say that about. </p>
<p>That’s why he didn’t hesitate when he said softly, “you can hug me. If – if you want to.”</p>
<p>She didn’t even hesitate, slipping her arms around his waist almost before he’d finished speaking. He waited to hear the teasing about how it was <i>just like hugging a bag of bones</i> like JJ had the first time he’d let her do so. Maybe she’d joke like Morgan had about how she couldn’t hug him too long because she <i>might break his scrawny ass in half</i>. </p>
<p>When all she did was tuck her head to his chest and take a deep breath, he genuinely didn’t know what to do. The feeling was something he’d never felt before, let alone while he was holding onto someone He could feel her relaxing against him, feel the way her arms tightened a bit, how she nestled her face a little closer into his sweater… he felt <i>soft</i>. </p>
<p>Slowly, he wrapped his own arms around her shoulders. Sure, he knew she was short, but holding her against him, he’d never noticed how small she was. In fact, even in her heels, she hardly cleared his shoulder. His arms easily fully enveloped her, and when she burrowed even further into his hold it felt like she’d clicked right into place, like she’d meant to be there all along. </p>
<p>Neither of them moved for an immeasurable amount of time. He committed every single detail of the next several moments to memory, overly grateful that his eidetic mind would let him do so. From the soft scent of her rose-and-sandalwood perfume, to the feel her small hands tangling into his sweater, to the feel of her taking in several slow breaths, each one settling her sniffles until finally they stopped altogether. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” she murmured against his chest, still not moving even though they probably should’ve by now. In response, Spencer’s arms tightened a bit around her; he felt her smile against his sweater. </p>
<p>“I told you, I’ll always help you if you’ll let me,” he reminded her. Whether it was with her homework, or near-cannibalism, or even just her being a little too hard on herself, he would help. </p>
<p>Maybe one day that’d count towards all the other things she was holding back from him, too. For now, though, he’d gotten her tears to stop. When they finally stepped apart, he saw her smile lingering too. </p>
<p>Reid couldn’t say he was the most outgoing, or the best at small talk, or even halfway-decent at reading emotions. He wasn’t charismatic or empathetic, or even all that friendly or relatable. Tonight, though, none of that mattered because he could say he’d been enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y'all I'm so sorry I squicked so many of you with the chili! I can't lie though I'm glad you all suffered with me because that was just... *shudders*. I hope this chapter somewhat made things better!... except it was super angsty... I'm sorry!</p>
<p>I hope you still liked the chapter though. What do you think about how Morgan reacted? Is Aria being too hard on herself or do you think she should've listened to him? What about her and Reid?! I'm excited to hear what you thought!</p>
<p>Next week's chapter will be less angsty - but just as intense! Thank you guys so much for reading. I love all of you that support myself and the story. It means more to me than I can say! </p>
<p>Have a B-E-A-UTIFUL week, and I'll see you Monday! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Wildfire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x09 - Penelope</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A hand settled on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake as a soft voice murmured, </p><p>“Aria? Aria, wake up…” With a grumble, I shook my head and burrowed deeper down against the warm, soft pillow I was curled against. The same voice chuckled and the hand tightened a hint. “Penelope’s starting to wake up. Do you want to go and see her?”</p><p>Well <i>that</i> shoved the exhaustion straight out of me. Instantly I was blinking my eyes open, scrambling to right myself. It had apparently been JJ’s lap I was dozing in; she gave me a warm smile as I stifled a yawn and stretched. </p><p>As I did so, something slipped down my shoulders and pooled on the couch beside me. Curious, I grabbed it and held it up, staring in surprise at Reid’s sweater. Someone shuffled up to me and converse peeked into my vision. </p><p>“You looked cold, so I um…” he shrugged shyly as I held the sweater up to him. “I hope you don’t mind.”</p><p>“No, no. That’s – that’s really sweet. Thank you,” I assured him with a small smile. He gave one back as I pushed to my feet, grimacing in the aches that blossomed through my body. “I’m way too old to be sleeping on couches.”</p><p>Emily snorted beside me and gave a dubious look down at me. “You’re in college. You are <i>not</i> old.”</p><p>“My sore bones beg to differ,” I informed her, all but hobbling after her and JJ down the hall. In my sleep-muddled state, it took nearly the whole walk to Penelope’s room to realize we were missing one of our group. </p><p>The events of last night started to come back to me with each step, and dread filled me slowly as I recalled what had happened. My fight with Morgan, Reid’s talk – the hug that brought a blush to my cheeks now – and then coming back to the break area. </p><p>Morgan had been talking with the girls, but as soon as he saw me he mumbled something and slipped off down the hall before Reid and I even reached them. They’d assured he was just clearing his head, but I didn’t see him the rest of the night. Well, at least for the short time I’d managed to stay awake. </p><p>Despite insisting I wasn’t absolutely exhausted, I didn’t really remember anything after JJ had convinced me to sit with her. At least Hotch would be happy to know I <i>did</i> get a little rest in like he’d asked. </p><p>As we rounded the corner, I spotted Morgan already inside Pen’s room, smiling down at her and talking softly. My steps slowed with apprehension, not having any idea how to handle the man that had refused to even look at me less than six hours ago. </p><p>Hearing us approach, both of them looked up and my eyes instantly met with my best friend’s. She gave a watery laugh and instantly beckoned me to her. Tears instantly welled in my eyes and I rushed to her side, my hesitancy with Morgan instantly forgotten. Penny was more important than anything going on with he and I. </p><p>Carefully I leaned down, hugging Penelope delicately to me and giving a shaky laugh of relief at finally see her awake and alright. One of her hands reached up and feebly patted my arm as I pulled back; I pressed a soft kiss to her cheek as I stood. </p><p>Morgan came up on her other side as JJ stood beside me, wrapping an arm around my back to tuck me to her side as she reached out and gave Penelope’s hand a squeeze. Reid and Emily smiled at her from the foot of the bed as she looked around at us all.</p><p>“No tears,” she warned, catching the tremble of my lower lip. “I’m afraid if I start crying I’ll come unstapled.”</p><p>
  <i>My best friend is stapled together. Stapled. Together. And it’s all my fault.</i>
</p><p>“How’re you feelin’?” Morgan asked her softly, and Penelope gave a heavy sigh. </p><p>“Confused, stupid, and in pain,” she admitted, shaking her head just a hint. JJ shifted a little closer and asked, </p><p>“Are you up for some questions?”</p><p>Penelope nodded, swallowed hard, and then whispered, “I never saw it coming. He was just as deliciously normal and sweet as I’d thought he’d be.”</p><p>My heart instantly plummeted straight to my stomach as her words registered. It had been him. It had been Chris. If Penelope and JJ hadn’t been holding tight to me I probably would’ve bolted out of the room.</p><p>“You know him?” Reid pressed, and Penelope gave a small nod as she rolled her head to the side to look up at Morgan. </p><p>“You were right. I knew it, and I just – I hadn’t wanted to believe it,” she admitted, and the guilt tore straight through me, nearly pulling a sob out of me right there and then. JJ felt me tense and her arm tightened around me. </p><p>“So it <i>was</i> him,” Morgan realized; I couldn’t look up at him. I couldn’t even look at Penelope.</p><p>“Wait, okay. Your date?” Emily clarified, and Penelope nodded again. “Who was your –“</p><p>“First-Floor Hottie,” I managed, the words bitter in my mouth. Emily <i>oh</i>’d, completely taken aback, as JJ <i>and</i> Reid stirred in surprise at what I said. It only just now occurred to me that only Morgan, Emily, Penelope, and I had talked about this guy. <i>Well, everyone else is about to get a crash-course on the murderous, chiseled Adonis hunk. And then they can all remind me how stupid I’d been to let Penelope near him</i>, I thought bitterly to myself. I felt Morgan’s eyes burning into me, but there was no way I could meet his gaze. </p><p>Penelope rolled her head to <i>me</i> now and she pulled her hand from JJ’s to take hold of mine. I almost wanted to pull away; I didn’t deserve her comforting me. It was my fault she was here. </p><p>“You got me all dolled up and it <i>was</i> wasted on him. I just wanted to believe he was actually interested in me.”</p><p>“Penny –“ I tried, and she gave an airy chuckle, shaking her head. </p><p>“I never should’ve let my guard down. And y’know? I’m so glad he wasn’t your type,” she joked softly, and more tears welled in my eyes. My best friend was stapled together, lying in a hospital bed having just narrowly avoided death, and she was relieved it had been her instead of me. </p><p>I did not deserve Penelope Garcia. </p><p>“Do you have any idea why he would’ve done this?” Reid asked her gently. “Did he threaten you? Did he want something?”</p><p>Penelope’s lower lip trembled and she shrugged, then almost instantly winced at the movement. “I just – I thought he liked me…”</p><p>She sniffed and took a shaky breath, her face tight with distress. JJ cleared her throat, reaching out to pat her arm gently as she said, “Alright. I think it’s time you got some more rest.”</p><p>“We’ll start digging,” Emily assured, and her eyes flicked to me. “His name was Chris, right?” </p><p>“Christopher Michael Reynolds. He told me he worked in HR,” I told her softly. Emily nodded, and she led Reid and JJ out into the hall. Morgan lingered, leaning down to kiss Penelope’s cheek like I had. I felt his eyes on me again, but I still didn’t look up. </p><p>Only once he started to leave did I begin to follow; Pen’s hand in mine tightened, and I paused. “Aria? Could… could you stay? Just for a bit?”</p><p>My aching heart softened and I nodded instantly, moving back to her side again. Emily caught my eye and gave a quick nod before leading the others a little further out. My best friend smiled softly up at me when I turned back to her and I began, </p><p>“Penny, I’m so, <i>so</i> –“</p><p>A bang from the hallway made both of us jump, and Penelope winced as we both looked out into the hall. Morgan had his hands on his head, rigid back to us, breathing hard. There was a lingering mark on the wall from his hand and for a heartbeat I was back in Connor’s apartment.</p><p>“<i>You need to stay calm</i> –“ Reid began, pulling me back to the here-and-now. Morgan whirled on him just like he’d done to me last night. </p><p>“<i>Don’t tell me what to be</i>,” he snarled, and Penelope sighed heavily. </p><p>“You know, right when it happened… you two were the first people I thought about. Before I even hit the ground, I was all, <i>there’s no way I can die like this. If this jerk-wad kills me, those two are gonna drown themselves in guilt</i>.”</p><p>When I didn’t answer – lips pressed tight to fight back the tears – Penny squeezed my hand. I shook my head and managed to choke out, </p><p>“Morgan’s hunch was right. I should’ve listened to him too.”</p><p>Penelope was quiet, her soft chocolate eyes blinking up at me slowly for a moment as she began slowly, “before Mr. Macho started punching walls, I <i>know</i> you weren’t about to apologize. Because you <i>know</i> you have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, my sweet little honeybee.”</p><p>“Pen, I all but pushed you out the door last night,” I whispered; if I tried to talk any louder I was seriously gonna cry. “If I’d just listened to –“</p><p>“Aria, <i>no</i>. There was <i>no way</i> you could’ve known the First-Floor Hottie was a creepy, trigger-happy psycho. You did absolutely nothing wrong, my love,” she promised me, squeezing my hand. She nodded out to the hallway and added, “it looks like they all need you right now. You know as much about this scumbag as I do, and you can help find him.”</p><p>“I’m not leaving you –“</p><p>“I’ll be just fine. Really. I’m probably just gonna sleep anyways. You go be the brilliant little mind-reader you are. And… do me a favor.” When I raised my brows, she said softly, “don’t you dare talk about me like a victim, and do not let yourself <i>or</i> Morgan blame yourselves. Okay?”</p><p><i>Fine. Morgan can blame me in my place,</i> I reasoned as I gave her a nod. “Alright mama bear. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”</p><p>“Alright, honeybunch. I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too, Penny.” I swooped and gave her a goodbye cheek-kiss before I slowly left the room, approaching Morgan and Reid reluctantly. Reid turned to me and he gave a gentle, encouraging nod to invite me forward. </p><p>“What did she say?” he asked, getting Morgan’s attention. He turned and I stilled at Reid’s side, eyes locked on the handsome, scruffy profiler instead. </p><p>“She doesn’t want us talking about her like a victim. And…” I paused, looking over as Emily and JJ joined us. Finally, slowly, I looked up to meet Morgan’s gaze. I couldn’t read the expression in his eyes; he was shutting himself off from me. That hurt almost more than the anger. “And she doesn’t want you blaming yourself for this.”</p><p>Morgan looked away wordlessly as Emily and JJ shared a look, seeing right through my half-truth. JJ turned to me and started, “just Morgan? Is that <i>all</i> she –“</p><p>“Did you get his name to Hotch and Rossi?” I segued, getting a sigh from Emily and a pointed look from JJ. Seeing that I wasn’t about to go back to the question she’d been trying to ask, she reluctantly told me, </p><p>“Yeah. I just called them. They said they’ll get started on it. Emily and I are going to meet them now. Hotch asked if the three of you could stay here with Garcia, see what more you can find out.” As we all nodded, JJ’s gaze went back to me. “Aria, do you remember <i>anything</i> else about this guy?”</p><p>I quickly shook my head. “No. Nothing at all. He just – he let me in when I couldn’t get to my badge. We introduced ourselves, and that was it. I mean, Penny looked him up but she didn’t –“</p><p>“She was lookin’ stuff up on him?” Morgan asked in surprise, concern and confusion flitting over his face, arms folding over his chest. “Like what?”</p><p>I shrunk just a hint under his unwavering stare. “Just – she just found little things. He was an Eagle Scout. He, um, he has a credit score of 780 –“</p><p>JJ rested a hand on my arm to gently cut off my nervous rambling. “Alright. That’s great. You think on it, see if you can come up with anything that might help, and give Hotch a call if you do. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” I promised softly, trying to return the smile she and Emily gave before heading down the hall. Morgan also started to back away, and Reid frowned after him. </p><p>“Where’re you going?”</p><p>He held up his phone, already putting his back to us as he headed down the hall. “I’m callin’ Hotch, see where he and Rossi are at while Prentiss and JJ head over.”</p><p>It was clear that was just an excuse to get away from us – from <i>me</i>, but I didn’t say anything. Reid frowned after him until he disappeared around the corner. The two of us fell into a heavy silence, both leaning back against the wall just outside Penelope’s room. Instantly my mind went back to the night before. </p><p>The warmth of his arms around me, the tight hold he’d given that had soothed all the pain inside me and made me feel instantly like things were gonna be okay… that’s what I needed now. It felt like the pieces of myself I’d been holding onto were slipping out of my grasp and I needed Reid to help me keep everything together.  I was so tempted to turn and hug him again just then that I actually had to tangle my fingers in my skirt to keep myself from reaching out to him –</p><p>“Why was Garcia looking up Chris Reynolds’ credit score?” </p><p>Reid’s question caught me off guard and I blinked, processing what he’d just asked, turning to look up at him and meeting his questioning gaze. Was he just trying to distract me, like he usually did when I was upset? Was he trying to follow up with what Morgan had started in on me for?</p><p>“Oh. She –“ my words caught in my throat. <i>She wanted to hook me up with him but I was too busy crushing on you to care.</i> “She thought I should ask him out and she was looking into him to make sure he’d be a good fit. You know, doing the whole overprotective-matchmaking-friend thing.”</p><p>For a few seconds he was fully silent, studying my expression purposefully before giving a <i>hmm</i> and turning to stare straight ahead. There was the hint of a frown on his face, and for a moment I let my mind start to get carried away. He looked <i>just</i> this side of upset with what I’d told him…</p><p><i>Was he jealous</i>?</p><p>“What else did she find on him?” he finally continued, though he stayed looking forward. Unlike <i>him</i>, I didn’t have an eidetic memory. That conversation was almost two months ago and I hadn’t really been paying attention when she first told me about him. </p><p>“Honestly? She had a whole list of stuff but what I told Morgan is all I remember her saying,” I admitted, and at that Reid turned to stare down at me in question. I didn’t know what it was that pushed me to tell him, but the next moment I gave him a shrug and said, “I wasn’t committed to memorizing facts on him. He wasn’t my type so I really didn’t care.”</p><p>For <i>just</i> a heartbeat there was a small, pleased smile on Reid’s face. Almost instantly it was interrupted by Morgan all but materializing beside us so unexpectedly even Reid gave a start. I, of course, barely stifled a scream and jumped back, hand flying to my chest as I sucked in a breath. </p><p>“<i>Jesus</i> Morgan don’t <i>do</i> that –“</p><p>“Is this the guy?” he rushed out, pushing his phone towards me. The man on the screen certainly <i>was</i> handsome, but he wasn’t Chris. This guy had dark, wavy hair, deep brown eyes, and a thick, black beard. Almost opposite of the man I’d see in the lobby. </p><p>When I looked up at Morgan and shook my head, ready to answer, he cut me off with a noise of disbelief. “You’re kiddin’ me.”</p><p>“I – no, this isn’t Chris –“</p><p>“Hotch just pulled his file. This <i>is</i> Christopher Michael Reynolds, he works payroll in HR. You’re tellin’ me this isn’t who you met?”</p><p>Again I shook my head, and before he could speak I said quickly, “he was about your height, dark blonde hair, blue eyes –“</p><p>“So this dude lied about his name. We don’t even know who she was actually with!?”</p><p>Before I could answer Morgan let out an actual snarl, fist slamming the wall again like he’d done earlier. I flinched away from the movement and skittered back, eyes wide and heart in my throat as I stared up at him. </p><p><i>“Next time you do somethin’ that fucking stupid it’s gonna be your face, not this fucking wall,”</i> Connor had spat at me as I’d dropped to my knees, desperately wiping up the spilt water from the cup I’d knocked off the counter. </p><p>For a heartbeat it was his furious, dark blue eyes burning into me now. I backed up until I bumped into something – some<i>one</i>. Reid gently took hold of my arms to steady me as I all but shrank back into him, unable to look away from Connor –</p><p>
  <i>It’s not Connor. It’s okay, you’re okay. This isn’t Connor. This is –</i>
</p><p>“Morgan,” Reid spoke up, voice just a hint this side of sharp. I blinked the tears out of my eyes, and Morgan’s dark, puzzled gaze was looking down at me instead. “You should go tell Hotch that this isn’t who we’re looking for.”</p><p>Morgan held my stare for several long, silent moments. His eyes flickered between my own as he registered the genuine fear on my face. As he gave a curt nod and turned to head down the hall again, I caught the tail end of a regretful on his face. </p><p>My eyes fell to my shoes, fingers twisting in the hem of the dress. At least until I remembered how damn expensive this thing was; I brought my hands up to my chest, toying with a few wayward curls instead. </p><p>“Morgan’s just frustrated,” Reid spoke up, voice soft and welcomed against the harsh ones rising up inside me again. Though we stepped apart, his hands gave my arms a gentle squeeze before they slid away. “He feels helpless right now and –“</p><p>“He hates me,” I corrected, the bitterness in my own words pulling a grimace from me. <i>He wouldn’t be feeling helpless if I hadn’t pushed Penelope into the date. If I hadn’t been so stupid none of this would be happening.</i></p><p>“Aria,” Reid murmured, genuinely crestfallen as he stepped around to stand in front of me; I kept my eyes trained on the floor. “He doesn’t hate you.” </p><p>“Well he should,” I admitted; tears pricked my eyes again and I tucked my chin tighter to my chest, needing to look away. <i>I certainly do</i>. </p><p>I hadn’t said the words out loud but I knew that somehow Reid had heard them. He reached out and caught my fidgeting hands; his was big enough to cover both of mine. His fingers curled tighter over them, prompting me to look up at him. </p><p>His face softened seeing my teary eyes and his thumb brushed gently across the back of one of my hands. As he went to say something, though, the nurse in Penelope’s room stepped out. </p><p>“Agents?” well, I didn’t want to go through the correction of <i>actually no I’m just the intern that messes things up around here</i> so I just nodded with Reid. “She’s asking for you.” </p><p>The two of us exchanged a quick glance as Reid stepped back, hand withdrawing from mine. He nodded me in ahead of him and I shuffled around the corner into Penelope’s room. She blinked wearily up at us as we approached and, seeing my face, her hand lifted and she made a grabbing-motion, beckoning me to her once again. </p><p>Giving a small smile, I obliged and moved closer, reaching out and letting her take hold of my hand. She held mine between both of hers, toying with my fingers as Reid came up on her other side. </p><p>“Hey now, I thought I said no tears,” she teased, and I managed to give her a small smile. </p><p>“I’m not crying. I just naturally have very shiny eyes.”</p><p>“Right,” Penelope snorted, giving me a playful look. “You know, when I was in the ambulance, I could hear that song <i>Heroes</i> playing in my head. You know, that one I always get stuck in yours?” she teased, peeking up at me. My smile widened and I nodded, encouraging her to keep going. “I remember, I kept thinking, <i>is David Bowie really God? Aria’s never gonna believe me</i>. I couldn’t wait to tell you.”</p><p>I actually snorted, grin breaking out over my face for the first time in God – or, David Bowie? – knows how long. Reid chuckled and smiled down at Penelope as she giggled to herself, patting my hand sweetly. </p><p>“I <i>don’t</i> believe you, for the record,” I teased her, shaking my head. “We both know Bowie transcends God.”</p><p>Giggling more, she gave my hand a squeeze as she cleared her throat and asked, “have you guys found anything on my date from hell?”</p><p>I know she was expecting a laugh, or a smile at the very least, but her words instantly reminded me of the look on Morgan’s face as he’d thrown out, <i>we don’t even know who she was actually with</i>. When I swallowed hard and looked away, Penelope’s hands tightened around mine. </p><p>“Um, it uh, it turns out that First-Floor Hottie isn’t actually Chris Reynolds. He lied about his name,” I admitted, guilt gnawing at my chest, making it hard to even take a shaky breath. My best friend knew <i>exactly</i> where my head was at, because instantly she promised, </p><p>“Honeybee, don’t. You had <i>no</i> way to know he was lying. I mean, I even looked the man up!”</p><p>“Did you ever see a picture of him?” Reid asked her, and Penelope shook her head. </p><p>“I mean, honestly, I never thought to check for one. We already knew what he looked like, so I wasn’t even thinking about it,” she rushed out, sounding just as shocked as I’d felt. </p><p>“We got a sketch artist comin’ in later to help with that,” Morgan announced from the doorway. Penelope and Reid looked over at him; I focused on watching the drip of the IV beside me. “Prentiss and JJ are goin’ over footage from Quantico. Guy’s gotta be on video somewhere if he was in that buildin’.”</p><p>Penelope nodded in relief. “Good. That’s good. I mean, that’s good, right?”</p><p>Morgan walked up and took a spot beside Reid, reaching out and resting a hand on her leg in comfort. “Yes and no. If we got his face somewhere it might help. But if this dude was callin’ himself Chris Reynolds and passin’ a bold-faced lie in FBI headquarters to FBI agents, I doubt he was sloppy enough to leave us an easy trail to follow.”</p><p>When Penelope’s face fell, Reid spoke up and asked, “did he happen to tell you about himself? Did he say what he did besides working for the FBI?” </p><p>“I – I don’t know,” she started; I could feel her hand tightening around mine. “I’m still hazy, I don’t think I’ll be any help –“</p><p>“Anything will help,” I promised her, lacing our fingers and squeezing back in reassurance. “Any little detail, anything you can think of.”</p><p>She gave a shaky nod, took a breath, and then shut her eyes. She was quiet for a few moments, struggling through the events of last night. </p><p>“He… he said he was a lawyer before. He’d just started working for the FBI recently for a change of pace.” </p><p>“Good. That’s good,” I reassured. Reid nodded to me and then pressed gently, </p><p>“Did he take you somewhere familiar for either of you?”</p><p>Penelope shook her head and frowned. “No… he said he wanted to show me a place. He said he’d never been there before and wanted to try it out with me.”</p><p>“You two drove together?” Morgan frowned, and Penelope nodded slowly. </p><p>“Mhmm. He told me he wanted to be chivalrous and pick me up.”</p><p>My heart twisted as the hint of a small, wishful smile flickered over her lips. She’d been so hopeful, so excited… God, why couldn’t he have just been a nice guy? Why couldn’t she have just had a nice freakin’ date and that had been that? Why did the universe have to strike out at the people who deserved the most?</p><p>“What kind of car was it?” Morgan asked, pulling me back to the present again. Penelope frowned.</p><p>“Um, white?” I actually almost snorted and quickly smothered it at the look I felt Morgan giving me. “Four-door. Sedan, I guess. American? Um… it smelled new? I guess? I don’t – I really don’t know.”</p><p>“A rental car, maybe?” Reid prompted; the smile of assurance he gave her melted my heart. He always said he was no good with comforting others, but he always seemed to do so effortlessly. Hell, this time he even got a smile out of Penelope. </p><p>“Maybe, it could’ve been.”</p><p>“You happen to catch a license plate? Or maybe even the model of the car?” Morgan pressed again, and Penelope shrugged. </p><p>“I don’t – I really don’t know. I’m sorry. I just, I don’t look at things like you guys do. I’ve never needed to. I’ve never looked for the danger –“ </p><p>Her voice caught and as she took a shaky breath she winced. My free hand came up to cup her cheek, and I swept her hair back from her face as I soothed, “hey, it’s okay. It’s alright Penny. You’re doing really, really well.”</p><p>“You’re just being nice to me because you like me,” she argued with a small smile. I gave a soft laugh, curling her hair back around her ear and then letting my hand linger against her cheek. </p><p>“I do, but I’m not being biased. You really are doing well,” I promised, and she gave a small nod. “Is there anything else you can remember?”</p><p>A small smile tugged at her lips as she stared up at me. “He smelled <i>really</i> good. And he gave a really good hug.”</p><p>“Did he seem nervous at all? On edge?” Reid asked her, and Penelope gave a small shrug. </p><p>“I mean, he did, but… I just… I thought he was just nervous to kiss me goodnight…”</p><p>Her voice caught once more at the memory and this time a tear rolled down her cheek. My thumb instantly swept it away and I gave our linked hands a gentle squeeze. “Hey. If I can’t cry, you can’t cry.” </p><p>Penelope gave a shaky smile and nodded as Morgan asked softly, “what happened next?”</p><p>“I… it’s all blurry. I don’t remember. I know he said something, I just…” she frowned, and instantly I forced myself back to last night. As much as I never wanted to <i>ever</i> think about all of that ever again, I had to for her. It took a second to sort through my sleep-deprived, angst-ridden thoughts but his words drifted to the front of my mind. </p><p>“<i>I’ve been thinking about doing this all night</i>.” All three of them looked up at me in question as I explained, “I heard him say that. There was a pause, and then I heard the gun shot.” </p><p>“Did you go straight down?” Morgan asked me, and for the first time I felt something other than guilt and shame when he spoke to me. Indignation rose up and I lifted my gaze to give him a frown. </p><p>“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”</p><p>Morgan went to answer but Reid spoke up before he got the chance to. “Do either of you remember anything after that? Garcia, was there anything else that happened before Aria reached you?”</p><p>“I… I could hear him walking towards me,” she whispered; the hand in my own squeezed harder as her eyes shut tight. “He – he leaned over me, and I held my breath so he’d think I was dead –“</p><p>Her words landed hard and I felt myself actually sink down at the weight of them. Instantly, Penelope’s lifeless body was right at the front of my mind, picturing her like I’d found her. Collapsed on the stairs, blood pooling beneath her, all alone. She had laid there, all by herself as she bled out, using what she thought were her last moments to fake her death. </p><p>It was just too much.</p><p>Maybe it was Morgan’s hardly-veiled accusation just now, or the vivid imagery of Penelope dying, or the last forty-eight hours filled with cannibalism and gunshots and my best friends blood on my hands … I just couldn’t take it. </p><p>Penelope’s eyes snapped to me the second she felt me pulling back, and her hands fought to keep mine between them. As I curled into myself and took another step back she asked quickly, </p><p>“Hey, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“I’ve just – I gotta,” I took a breath as I felt the tears welling up – <i>these damn tears</i> – and pointed a shaky finger at the hall. “Um, I just need to… I um…”</p><p>With that eloquent, super-convincing excuse I all but spun on my heel and rushed out of her room. The tears fell hard as soon as I was on my own and I a choked sob broke through. Okay, maybe Hotch had a point; after that last case and now <i>this</i>, I was emotionally worn out. </p><p>Realistically, I knew I wouldn’t get very far. Leaving like that wouldn’t allow me solitude – not with Penelope awake and aware I was upset. <i>She</i> couldn’t follow me (though there wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that she’d tried vehemently just now), but I’d fully expected Reid to be less than two steps behind. </p><p>When a hand that most decidedly <i>wasn’t</i> his grabbed my arm, I instantly whirled around and pulled myself free. For a heartbeat I relaxed seeing it was Morgan, until I realized <i>it was Morgan</i>. My heart really, <i>really</i> couldn’t take his anger right then. I mean, not that last night had been any better, but today…</p><p>“Please yell at me later,” I all but begged, curling my arms defensively against my chest when he tried to reach for me again. He saw me pull back and he instantly retreated, catching the flicker of alarm on my face. “I know I screwed up, okay? I do. I just – right now I really can’t –“</p><p>“Ay, ay, woah,” he said softly. He didn’t reach for me again, but he took a step closer. Involuntarily I took one back; it was habit to keep out of reach when I was scared. He caught the shift again and slowly he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t look like that, okay? I’m not – I’d never hurt you, kid.”</p><p><i>That’s what Connor promised</i>, my mind threw out before I could push it back. I knew – <i>I knew</i> – it wasn’t right to look at Morgan like I looked at Connor. He was nothing like him. It wasn’t rational, and it wasn’t fair... But I couldn’t help it.  </p><p>The fury in his voice, the anger burning in his eyes, hitting the wall… harsh, wild tempers like that were unpredictable. They could grow out of control in the blink of an eye, like fire catching dry brush. They erupted without warning and tore through everything in their path mercilessly, unstoppable until they’d run their course. </p><p>I’d been burnt before and I wasn’t letting it happen again. </p><p>Morgan was a profiler, and I <i>knew</i> he understood my fear, my self-defense. I could see the realization on his face, in the way he took a step back from me and lowered his hands as he softened his voice. Morse so, though, it was the ache of guilt in the gaze that swept me over before he finally took a breath and spoke.  </p><p>“I know I was upset with you last night and I know I got a temper, but I <i>swear</i> to you I would never hurt you, Aria. I need you to know that. Even if you don’t wanna believe it right now, it’s important to me that you know. Okay?”</p><p>His voice actually cracked on the last word and he swallowed hard, his dark eyes glinting under the fluorescents with the tears he was trying to fight back. I could hear his honesty and see the regret. He wasn’t just trying to placate me like Connor always did. He was genuinely sorry. </p><p>“Okay,” I whispered, giving him a small nod as I tried to make myself relax. I already knew it, I really did. Morgan was nothing like Connor, even with his temper. I knew I was safe with him, and I hated my instinct reaction to him as much as I’m sure he did too. </p><p>“Good, okay,” he said softly, nodding slowly as he took another breath, like he was settling himself. “I also need you to know that Garcia gettin’ shot is <i>not</i> on you.”</p><p>A humorless chuckle left me and Morgan frowned as I shook my head. “Now you’re pushing it.”</p><p>“I’m serious,” he insisted; I leveled a heavy look at him. “Aria you’re not the one that shot her –“</p><p>The tears that I’d barely gotten a handle on started up again, and I gave him an incredulous look as I forced out, “you know, people keep saying that, but her blood is still on my hands. It literally <i>was</i> on my hands, and it’s because I was stupid and ignored all the warning signs I saw. I pushed her right into the hands of a psychopath, and she almost lost her life because I wanted to be a good friend.”</p><p>“No.” his tone was firm, and he took a step towards me again. I tensed but managed not to back up from him. “It’s not fair to play that game with yourself, kid, an’ it wasn’t right of me to say all that I said to you, or to put that kinda guilt on you. We had no way to know anything like this was gonna happen.”</p><p>“But you even said –“ </p><p>Morgan held up a hand and shook his head. “I was worried, yeah. But I’m tellin’ you right now, this wasn’t anything I’d actually considered. Really, I mean it. Garcia nearly dyin’ wasn’t one of the things that I’d been nervous about.”</p><p>“You were worried about her safety –“ I tried again, and Morgan scoffed, shaking his head. </p><p>“Yeah, I was. I was worried about him muggin’ her, or takin’ advantage of her. Not <i>shootin’</i> her. I was bein’ overprotective with her, but I wasn’t even thinkin’ this could happen. And… I felt guilty.”</p><p>His last words fell softer than the rest and I blinked up at him in surprise. He gave a heavy sigh as I asked gently, “<i>you</i> were guilty? Why?”</p><p>“’Cause even with how paranoid I was about this, I wasn’t ready for what happened. I didn’t let myself think through all that could go wrong and I let Garcia slip through the cracks. If I’d have thought – even for <i>one second</i> – that somethin’ like this could’a happened, I never would’a let her go. Regardless of you, or her, or any of the rest of this team. If I’d have thought she could’ve gotten hurt like this…”</p><p>He cut off and looked away, pressing his lips together as he let out a shaky breath. Seeing him looking so vulnerable finally pushed what Reid had told me into perspective: he <i>wasn’t</i> mad at me. He’d used his anger as a way to hide his own guilt; he felt just as bad as I did. </p><p>“You’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” I argued gently, acutely aware of just how hypocritical it was of <i>me</i> to be saying that. “I mean, things could potentially go wrong every day, and there’s no <i>way</i> to account for that. There’s just no way to protect her from everything, short of locking Penelope in her apartment and guarding her 24/7. And I think we both know how well <i>that</i> would go over.”</p><p>Morgan gave a quiet chuckle and managed a small smile as he nodded. We fell into a brief silence, both reflecting on what had been said, and finally he met my eyes once more as he admitted, “hearin’ she was shot, that she could’ve died, I just… I felt helpless, and that made me defensive. I felt so responsible but instead of acceptin’ that and workin’ through it, I pushed the blame onto you, and I never should’a done that.”</p><p>“I know you didn’t mean it,” I offered with a small smile, and he gave another soft chuckle. “We both feel guilty and we just dealt with it in different ways. We were both just trying to help Penelope the best way we could, and what happened just… <i>happened</i>.”</p><p>“You’re way too nice to me, Sunshine,” he sighed, shaking his head as I felt a bubble of warmth rising in my chest. I hadn’t realized how much I liked my nicknames until he’d stopped using them. “How ‘bout this, then. We both gotta agree not to bury ourselves in this guilt. We keep goin’ at this rate and it’s gonna crush us. Garcia needs us to find that son of a bitch, and we can’t do that weighin’ ourselves down like this.”</p><p>“Will you actually take your own advice, though?” I asked him pointedly, and to my surprise he gave me a smirk in return. </p><p>“Are <i>you</i>? I know the rest’a the team’s been tellin’ you all this too, and if you runnin’ outta the room’s any indication, I don’t think you’re takin’ it to heart.”</p><p>After leveling with each other, I didn’t want to drag him back down by saying <i>yeah, because you insisted it was my fault not twelve hours ago</i>. His words had hurt, but I knew he hadn’t meant them. Instead I held out my hand and stuck up my pinky. </p><p>“We both need to promise we’re not going to blame ourselves.”</p><p>“Are you really suggestin’ a pinky promise?”</p><p>“Nope,” I told him, wiggling my finger at him. “I’m insisting on one. You game, Mr. Clean?”</p><p>There was the same spark of warmth in his eyes at my nickname for him; we’d both apparently missed each other’s teasing. Looking more put off than I knew he was, he begrudgingly reached out and linked out pinkies. </p><p>“Alright. No blamin’ ourselves.”</p><p>Smiling at one another as we dropped our hands, he jerked his head back towards the room. When I reached his side, he slowly lifted his arm and wrapped it around my shoulders, hesitantly tucking me into a hug. </p><p>The lingering unease with his temper still sat fresh in my mind, but I forced it aside and wrapped my arms around his waist. After the past couple of days, the last thing I wanted to do right now was hold a grudge. </p><p>What mattered now was finding that stupid ‘<i>Adonis hunk</i>’ and making sure he’d pay for what he did to Penelope. </p><p>--</p><p>“<i>Is everything alright</i>?” an exhausted voice asked me on the other end of the phone. As I paced past Penelope’s new room again, she waved and went back to shuffling the cards in her lap. </p><p>“You sound like crap,” I chirped to Hotch, getting a huff of laughter as I bit back a smile. </p><p>“<i>Four days, no leads? I feel like crap</i>,” he agreed, and I let out a groan. </p><p>“Nothing? Still? Did the police take the sketch we did down to the coffee shop?”</p><p>“<i>The employees remembered Garcia, and recall the man she spoke to, but no one remembers him coming in before or after that morning</i>.”</p><p>“And they wouldn’t recognize him because it’s not a place he frequented,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand down my face in frustration. </p><p>Hotch made a noise of agreement before asking, “<i>did they move Garcia from the ICU yet</i>?”</p><p>I <i>mhmm</i>’d to hide the yawn I stifled, then added, “Reid and I just got her settled. The doctor even said she could go home in a day or two, as long as she’s feeling up for it.”</p><p>“<i>Good. Has she remembered anything else</i>?”</p><p>“Nothing so far,” I sighed, pacing past the room again, studying my best friend. Though she was feeling better and the staples were even close to coming out, I was still concerned. Honestly, it was more to do with what Hotch had said – there were no leads. The first-floor hottie was still on the loose and I half expected him to turn up at the hospital, guns blazing. </p><p>“<i>Alright. You and Reid keep replaying it with her, see what you can find</i>,” Hotch instructed. I heard Rossi say something to him in the background, and a moment later he told me, “<i>I need to go. One of us will call you or Reid if we come across anything. If Garcia recalls anything else, let me know right away</i>.”</p><p>“Will do, boss-man,” I promised. As I went to say goodbye he cut in, </p><p>“<i>Have you gone home to rest yet</i>?”</p><p>Ope. Thought he’d forgotten about telling me that yesterday. Or… had it been the day before? Three days ago? I didn’t know; time had no meaning in the hospital. “Well, not exactly…”</p><p>“<i>Aria</i>,” he sighed, a tone of firm concern taking over. “<i>You need to give yourself a break. You haven’t left the hospital all week, you’re not letting yourself rest</i> –“</p><p>“I rested!” I piped up indignantly; I could <i>feel</i> the unamused frown he was giving. </p><p>“<i>A couple hours dozing in an armchair doesn’t count. I mean it, I want you home tonight</i>.”</p><p>The whine left me before I could stop it. “<i>Hotch</i>, we gotta catch this guy! I can find a couch in the break room to nap on –“</p><p>“<i>I don’t want to have to go to the hospital to drag you out, but I will if you don’t leave tonight,</i>” he threatened. Before I could respond, I heard Emily and JJ sing-song in the background, </p><p>“<i>Ooh, Aria’s in trouble</i>!”</p><p>“Smack them for me.”</p><p>“<i>If you go home tonight I’ll see what I can do</i>,” he chuckled, getting a smile on my face. “<i>Call me if anything comes up, and stay safe</i>.”</p><p>“You too, Hotch. I’ll talk to you later,” I promised as we hung up. Tucking my phone away, I scampered back into the room and gave Penelope a smile. “Did you finally manage to get them shuffled?”</p><p>“I did, don’t give me that look!” she giggled, shrugging and holding the cards out to me. “I mean, how shuffled do they need to be for Go Fish?”</p><p>“Better than last time,” I teased as she started to deal them out. When she made a noise of offense I pointed out, “you got like three sets right off the bat! That’s so not fair!”</p><p>Penelope rolled her eyes and pointed out, “well ex<i>cuse</i> me, not all of us are as gifted with cards as the handsome doctor you’re crushing on –“</p><p>“<i>Penny</i>!” I squeaked, instantly whipping around to make sure Reid hadn’t come back from the cafeteria yet. My best friend snickered behind her cards and gave me a teasing wiggle of her brows. “<i>Jeeze</i>. Do you have any four’s?”</p><p>“Go fish,” she teased, and as I drew my card she asked, “so, are you actually leaving tonight or is Hotch gonna have to come march you out?”</p><p>My eyes narrowed at her and she gave me a wide grin, holding up her phone. “JJ says hi. Got any kings?”</p><p>Grumbling, I passed her my card and informed her, “I haven’t made up my mind –“</p><p>Penelope sat all four kings down on her lap and I gaped at her; it was just like last time! She peeked up at me and asked slowly, “Um… got any nine’s?” </p><p>“I swear to God,” I warned her, slowly passing over the one I had. She took it, paused, and then laid all four of them out as well. “Penelope! You said you shuffled!”</p><p>“I <i>tried</i>!” she defended through her giggles. “Some of them just stuck together!”</p><p>“Not for me! You’re totally cheating,” I accused, trying to hide my smile and failing miserably. “That’s it, you’re not shuffling anymore!”</p><p>Movement in the doorway caught my eye and I glanced over, heart somersaulting when I met Reid’s eyes. He was watching us with a bemused smile, a tray of food in his hands and Morgan at his shoulder. </p><p>Though he’d apologized and we were talking again, things were still a little rocky. Both of us were still on edge with Penelope’s attacker in the wind, and - though I wouldn’t admit it to anyone – I was really freakin’ tired. Between my exhaustion and Morgan’s frustration, we were both a little testy. </p><p>“Oh good, you’re back! Aria needs your magical hands,” Penelope told Reid as he walked into the room. He came to a full-on stop in the doorway – Morgan running into him – as he stammered out, </p><p>“I – wh-what? She needs – you need my –“</p><p>“To shuffle the cards,” I rushed to explain, snatching them from Penelope’s lap and quickly holding them out to him, my face ten thousand shades of red. “She can’t shuffle and she’s cheating at Go Fish.”</p><p>Morgan had the audacity to snort as he side-stepped Reid, taking the tray of food and setting it on Penelope’s lap. Reid took the cards from me and cleared his throat, standing at the foot of the bed as Morgan settled into the chair across from me on Penny’s other side. </p><p>“The chicken wrap is for you,” Reid told me, eyes not leaving the cards. Penelope instantly shoved it into my hands as he added, “it’s not too high in carbs and you need the protein. All you’ve had is vending machine food.”</p><p>“Emily brought me nuggets the other day,” I pointed out, though I took a bite of the wrap; my taste buds melted. If hospital food was tasting this good, maybe I <i>did</i> need to get out of here for a bit…</p><p>“Hotch said you were argumentative,” Morgan mused, and I threw him a glare. “Told me you still haven’t gone home either.”</p><p>“She hasn’t,” Penelope confirmed before I could swallow my bite and speak up. The three of them gave me pointed looks and finally as I finished chewing I mumbled, </p><p>“We’re not here to gang up on me.”</p><p>“Nah, but it’s fun,” Morgan chuckled; if I wasn’t so hungry I would’ve thrown my food at him. “But I guess we can torment the gremlin later. Garcia, you up for another round?”</p><p>My best friend gave a heavy sigh and sunk back against the pillows. “I mean, I guess. I just, I don’t know what else there even is to remember. We’ve beaten this horse to death, so to speak.”</p><p>Reid and I caught each other’s eye for a moment, both on the same brainwave. Penelope didn’t like going back over the date. It wasn’t that she didn’t think it would help, it was that she didn’t like being back with that creep. </p><p>“Let’s just go over behavior for now then,” he offered her, giving a small shrug. “That’s all profiling really is. Just noticing behavior.”</p><p>“We’ve been focusin’ on the actions, so let’s switch it up. You know as well as we do, any details you can think of will help tell us who he is,” Morgan said, reaching out and resting a hand on her leg. </p><p>“We’ll be right here with you, too,” I promised as I sat my food aside, reaching out and taking her hand gently. She gave it a tight squeeze and I prompted, “can we go back one more time?”</p><p>Penelope took a deep breath, looked around at the three of us, and then gave a small nod. Morgan cleared his throat and sat forward. </p><p>“Alright. Let’s go back to when you first arrived at the restaurant. Was this guy nervous?”</p><p>“No,” she said slowly, and her eyes fluttered shut. I kept her hand clutched tight. “He was the opposite, actually. I mean, right when we sat down he ordered wine for us. I told him I only drank red, and he told me to trust him, I’d love this one.”</p><p>“So he was trying to impress you,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Trying to be all manly-man and show you he can take charge.”</p><p>“Yeah, definitely,” she chuckled, shaking her head. Reid leaned forward on the end of the bed and asked, </p><p>“You said yesterday you noticed his watch, right?” when she nodded he pressed, “tell me about it. Why did it catch your eye?”</p><p>She smirked just a hint and said, “it was a fake rolex. He kept flashing it and messing with the clasp all night like it was something special.”</p><p>“Clearly he was playing with it because he wanted you to notice,” Reid mused; as he spoke, I felt Penelope’s hand tightening in my own, and I didn’t miss the way she’d started to shrink back against the pillows. “He wanted you to think it was real –“</p><p>“Penny?” I asked gently; she kept her eyes shut but turned her head towards me. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“I – I feel really exposed,” she said in a small voice. “I feel alone here with him…”</p><p>Before either Reid or Morgan could say anything, I was up off the chair, moving the tray of food to the side table. Keeping her hand in mine, I maneuvered myself up and onto the bed beside her. She gave a small laugh, smile taking over her face as I snuggled up against her. </p><p>“You’re not alone. You’re right here with us, perfectly safe,” I assured her, smiling as she sniffed and nodded, settling her cheek on the top of my head. “We’re not letting anything happen to you, okay?”</p><p>She leaned completely against me and I felt her nod softly. I caught Morgan’s eye and gave him a look to keep going. He rested his hand on her leg again in reassurance and asked, </p><p>“What’d you two talk about? It was just chit-chat, but did anything stand out?”</p><p>She began to shake her head, and then she paused. “He… he mentioned Aria.”</p><p>Reid and Morgan both shared a startled gaze as I asked in surprise, “what? He did?”</p><p>“Yeah. We were talking about what I do for work, and he brought up said he remembered seeing me with you in the lobby –“ </p><p>“Hold up,” Morgan said instantly, frown taking over his face as he met my eyes. “Sunshine, tell us about the day you met him.” </p><p>For a few moments I blinked in silence as I struggled to go back to that morning. I hadn’t been lying when I told Reid I really didn’t remember much about the guy. He hadn’t stood out to me. “Um… well, I couldn’t find my badge. I was at the side entrance I usually come in at. I was struggling trying to look for it, and he let me inside. I told him he shouldn’t let just anyone in but he said he recognized me so it was –“</p><p>“Wait,” Reid said this time, brow furrowed in concern as he stared down at me. “How did he recognize you? Had you ever seen him before?”</p><p>“No, never. He said he saw me all the time,” I told him with a shrug. “I’d teased him about being creepy he said he worked in HR so he always saw me pass by –“</p><p>“And outta all the people that go through that lobby he just so happened to see <i>you</i> each time?” Morgan asked</p><p>“Aria’s gorgeous. Of course she’d catch his eye,” Penelope defended, and I didn’t miss the sneaky glance she shot me before peeking up to Reid. Oh, she was <i>so</i> lucky she was injured right now… </p><p>Morgan made a noise of dismissal. “I’m not sayin’ she isn’t. I’m sayin’ I don’t think it’s a coincidence he just so happed to be watchin’ her and then miraculously run into <i>you</i>.”</p><p>“So, what does that mean?” I asked him, admittedly lost in what he was trying to piece together.</p><p>“This dude was watchin’ <i>both</i> of you,” Morgan snapped, and even though we were better now, and I knew he wasn’t necessarily mad at <i>me</i> about that, I still shrunk a hint into the pillows at his tone. Reid cleared his throat and I caught the tail end of a frown he gave Morgan before looking back to Penelope and I.</p><p>“Garcia, what else did he tell you? Did he give you any details when he mentioned he was a lawyer?”</p><p>Her face pinched into a frown as she struggled back through her memories. “He… he said he was a city attorney. He mentioned he pulled back from it because he was tired of having his murder cases released on things like judicial ineptitude or… it was something collateral…”</p><p>“Collateral estoppel?” Reid piped up, and Penelope nodded, ready to keep going, but Reid shook his head. “That’s not right. City attorneys don’t try murder cases.”</p><p>“What?” Penelope asked him in surprise, opening her eyes to blink up at him in confusion. “Why would he say that then?”</p><p>“He knew <i>you</i> wouldn’t notice that minor irregularity, and it was just another way to explain why he went to the FBI without raising red flags,” he explained with a shake of his head. “Clearly he knows enough to use legal terminology, but I don’t think he was ever actually a working lawyer.”</p><p>Hope sparked in my chest and I sat up quickly. “So then it’d be someone who could’ve failed out of law school, or didn’t pass the bar exam. Which means we might be able to start tracking through those records, right?”</p><p>“Right,” he agreed, smiling when he realized I’d picked up his brainwave. “We can have Hotch and the others follow up on that for us.”</p><p>“While they do that, we can keep goin’ through the date,” Morgan decided, and as I nodded in agreement he added, “and <i>you</i> can go home and rest.”</p><p>Reid and Penelope were already nodding in agreement, and I gave all of them a wounded frown. “What?! No way! We’re actually stating to get somewhere. I wanna stay and help!”</p><p>It was Penelope that shook her head and argued, “honeybee, you’ve been going full-speed since Friday. Almost a week now. You <i>need</i> to take a step back.”</p><p>When I opened my mouth, argument ready on the tip of my tongue, Morgan leaned forward and held up his phone. “Don’t make me call Hotch.”</p><p>My eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”</p><p>He was six numbers deep by the time I scrambled off the bed. He nodded at me as I begrudgingly hoisted my purse onto my shoulder, staring him down the entire time. “Good. Now I better not see you back here until after 8am tomorrow. Got it, sunshine?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” I huffed, turning to my best friend. Penelope smiled sweetly up at me. “You’ll be alright tonight?”</p><p>“I will be. I’m sure these two won’t leave me alone, and you’ll be back before you know it,” she assured, and lifted her arms, beckoning me to her with a wiggle of her fingers. “Come on, I need a little sweetness before you leave.”</p><p>Giggling and shaking my head, I leaned down and hugged her as tightly as I could without hurting her. She hugged back just as fiercely, giving me a kiss on the cheek as we pulled back. As I turned to go, Reid straightened up and quickly tucked his hair behind his ear as he came up beside me. </p><p>“I’ll walk you out. One of the most dangerous spots for muggings and violent attacks at night are parking lots, especially at hospitals,” he explained, and instantly my heart fluttered at his offer. He wanted to walk me out to make sure I got to my car okay? The touched, bashful smile on my face couldn’t be helped. “In fact, reports show parking structures in general are the third most common sight of murders and attacks, with hospitals being the biggest risk. As most close-up spaces are reserved for emergency arrivals and medical vehicles, other guests have to park further away, often in poorly-lit areas. As well, most people coming and going from the hospital are preoccupied with thoughts of loved ones and other situations surrounding someone in the hospital, so they’re not fully focused on their surroundings. Combined with the risk of attacks at night, walking to a parked car is almost more dangerous than walking through a notoriously bad part of town.”</p><p>Thankfully, he was so caught up in his rambling that he didn’t notice the blush on my cheeks <i>or</i> the wide, teasing grins from Penelope and Morgan. He turned to lead the way, and I shot them both scowls as I hurried down the hall after Reid.  </p><p>“If parking lots are third on the list, what are the first two?” I asked, staring up at him with a smile, knowing he’d continue his talks. I loved listening to him get lost in his facts. Reid, oblivious to my baiting, instantly launched into more statistics. </p><p>“Your home is the most common, with a friend or relative’s being second. The places we feel most at ease are the easiest places to be targeted, simply because so many people let themselves relax and ignore the signs of danger or lack of security that they’d be more aware of in an unfamiliar setting,” he explained, hands flying a mile a minute as he walked me through the details. We settled on the elevator and I hit the button for us; I was pretty certain he wasn’t even fully aware of where we were.</p><p>In fact, when he rambled, he essentially fell into autopilot, probably not even realizing what he was doing. Like the fact that as the elevator doors slid open, his hand settled lightly against the small of my back, ushering me out ahead of him. Seriously, for a guy that didn’t like touch – he didn’t even like Morgan grabbing onto him – he never seemed to mind with me. </p><p>Not that <i>I</i> minded one bit; I let myself get carried away each time. If he allowed me to sleep on his shoulder, or ruffle his hair, or actually <i>hug</i> him, did that mean I was special to him? Was I an exception to his unspoken rules of physical contact?</p><p>As we crossed the parking lot, Reid kept himself at my side. Though his hand had regrettably left my back, he stayed close enough to me that our arms and hands brushed the whole way to my car. </p><p>“… but with new technology, it’s becoming much less likely to rely on the data gathered just from cell phones alone,” Reid informed me; I felt a little bad. I’d been so caught up in overthinking the simple hand to my back that I’d missed the middle of his info-dump, and I had absolutely no clue how we’d gone from attacks in parking lots to cell phone data. Thankfully though, when he noticed we’d stopped walking, he blinked and cleared his throat. “Oh, I didn’t notice we were already here. I’m sorry, I got carried away –“</p><p>“Hey, what do I always tell you?” I teased lightly, nudging his arm and giving a warm smile. “Don’t apologize for talking, especially with me. I never mind hearing what you have to say.”</p><p>His cheeks flushed just a hint as he ducked his head, nodding quickly as he said, “I’m glad you appreciate my information.”</p><p>“I do. I also appreciate you walking me out,” I said softly, gripping the strap of my purse like it was a lifeline, trying not to look as giddy as I felt when he met my gaze. “No one, um… no one’s ever done that for me before, actually. It means a lot that you care enough to go out of your way for me.”</p><p>Reid’s face softened as he studied me, a mix of diffident surprise and a hint of concern mixing in his eyes. “I – of course. Making sure you’re safe isn’t an inconvenience to me.”</p><p>His words settled over us, and as we stared at one another I felt a spark of hope in my chest that maybe, just <i>maybe</i>, I wasn’t reading into things. Maybe Reid actually <i>did</i> have feelings for me past just being friends. </p><p><i>Or maybe he’s just a gentleman and you’re reading too much into someone just showing you simple decency and kindness,</i> my inner cynicism voiced, instantly squashing my hope when I realized that was much more likely. </p><p>“Thank you. For like, everything you’ve done the last week. You’ve made all of this –“ I waved my hand in the air like that would capture everything from near-cannibalism to attempted murder on a friend, “ – so much more bearable.”</p><p>He cracked a toothy smile – the one that left my heart fluttering in my chest – and nodded quickly. “That’s what friends are for, right?”</p><p>“Right,” I chuckled, ducking my head with a smile. Getting ready to say goodbye, I looked back up at him and blinked seeing that his smile was slowly sinking into a frown. When he caught my questioning gaze, he cleared his throat and asked, </p><p>“Did Morgan talk to you? About… um, about what happened the other night?”</p><p>“Yeah, he did. We’re… I think we’re alright. He said that you, Em, and JJ talked to him and I really appreciate you all looking out for me,” I smiled, expecting his own to return. Reid’s expression didn’t change though, and nervousness flickered through me. Had I said something wrong? “What is it?”</p><p>“I’m glad you both talked about it. I just… I noticed how you reacted to his outbursts. I don’t mean to pry, I know it’s not really my place, but… you seemed genuinely frightened. I know Morgan’s never hurt you, but… you’re easily startled, especially by loud noises, and you had a visceral reaction to his aggression and temper. I know those signs, and I just… are you okay? You’re not – no one’s um…” he cleared his throat again and, after taking a breath, he rushed out, “I just want to make sure you’re alright. Between your behavior and the call the other day, I just want to – if something’s wrong, I want to help.”</p><p>I wasn’t sure whether to cry, or to panic. I was so touched that he’d taken notice of everything going on with Connor, even though I’d been doing my best to hide it. I had no way to explain how touched I felt knowing that he’d been keeping an eye on me without me even noticing. </p><p>It was time to tell him. With everything that had been going on, Connor had been pushed to the back of my mind, but Reid had asked. He’d noticed, he was worried, and I owed him my honesty. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect time, but after all that had happened, I wanted him to know. </p><p>“Actually, I mean, I did want to talk to you about something,” I admitted, and the concern on his face doubled immediately. “It’s – I’m okay, I just –“</p><p>Reid’s phone ringing made both of us jump and I actually let out a squeak of alarm, clutching at my chest as I let out a shaky breath. He mumbled out a quick <i>sorry</i> as he tugged the phone out. “What is it, Morgan?... Okay. Yeah, I’ll be right there.”</p><p>He hung up while I could still hear Morgan talking, and he turned back to me instantly. Seeing the look on my face, he started off, “he just wants to run through more cognitive replays with Garcia. We can talk, really. I’m not rushing you off.”</p><p>“I know,” I assured him with a smile. “But this… it’s not a quick thing to talk about and I don’t want to just dump it on you and leave.”</p><p>Reid was instantly shaking his head. “No, you wouldn’t be. This is important, and if you really do feel like you’re not safe, or if you’re not alright, I want to know –“</p><p>Seriously, the world was against us right now. I was just beginning to relent and launch into the whole thing when his phone rang <i>again</i>. I’d never seen Reid annoyed, but the flicker of irritation couldn’t be missed as he pulled his phone out again and snapped out, “what?... Oh, yeah, Hotch. Sorry. Everything’s fine…”</p><p>I attempted to bite back a snort and failed miserably; he gave me a small, playfully-annoyed smile as he listened to whatever Hotch was running through. “Yeah, I’ll let Morgan know. We’ll call you in a bit.”</p><p>He hung up, and though he went to insist I talk to him, I shook my head. This was going to take more than just a couple minutes, and I <i>knew</i> once I started in about Connor, Reid would have a thousand questions. Penelope needed us right now; Connor could wait. </p><p>“We’ll talk later, alright?” I promised, giving him a small smile. He didn’t look happy about that, and I could tell he felt like I was just brushing him off. It was the last thing I wanted him to think, especially when he was right, and <i>especially</i> when he was one of the few I genuinely wanted to talk to about all this. “We really will. We just need to help Penelope right now, and for the time being I’m okay. I promise.”</p><p>Though he didn’t look happy with that, he knew I had a point, and he pressed his lips together in silent defeat. As I unlocked my door and went to get inside, he asked softly, </p><p>“If… if that changes, if you’re <i>not</i> okay, could you – <i>would</i> you tell me?” </p><p>His eyes flicked nervously between mine as he waited for my answer. Honestly, I was <i>just</i> exhausted enough that his genuine concern nearly got me crying. Swallowing down the emotions rising up inside me, I just gave a quick nod and tried to smile without letting any tears fall. </p><p>“I will. But um, I did have a favor to ask for,” I hedged, tossing my purse in the car and turning to him. He was nodding eagerly before I’d even finished speaking. I gave him a small smile and asked him meekly, “could I get another hug? For the road.”</p><p>Honestly I’d never seen Reid so pleasantly, bashfully surprised. He took a few moments to process my question, but when it finally sank in, he let a genuine smile take over as he gave me a nod. </p><p>Taking the lead, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him securely. His own encompassed me immediately and I sunk into his hold, burying my smile into his sweater. For someone who apparently didn’t hug at all, he was surprisingly good at it. One arm was wrapped solidly around my shoulders, tucking me tight to his chest as the other went around my waist, fully engulfing me in his hold. </p><p>“You smell really good,” I mumbled against him before we pulled back. He gave a timid laugh and blinked down at me curiously. “Sorry. That’s weird. Just, um, what I meant was thanks.”</p><p>Reid reached out and grabbed hold of my door for me, opening it the rest of the way as I got in. “You’re welcome. Drive safe. The percentage of fatal accidents at night is nearly four times higher than those during the day.”</p><p>“I’ll keep it safe,” I assured, giving him a thankful grin. “Have a good night, Reid. I’ll see you in the morning.”</p><p>“Goodnight,” he said with a smile in return, shutting my door for me. He stood watching as I pulled out, holding up a hand as I drove away. By the time I got back to my dorm – almost an hour later – I was worn out to the point of near-collapse. </p><p>As I finally sunk into my bed for the first time in a week, the lingering warmth of Reid’s hug stayed with me and kept the rest of the chaos in my mind at bay, letting me finally get the rest I needed. </p><p>--</p><p>Cards <i>shff</i>’d off to the side of Penelope’s hospital bed, and I glanced over to Reid as I tugged out the lipstick from my purse. He let the cards flutter through his slim fingers, gliding over them effortlessly as he flicked them back together. </p><p>“With the overhand shuffle like you did, Garcia, it’s not as effective as mixing up the cards from the order they start in. Typically, actually, most cards stay put. What you want to do is what’s called the riffle shuffle…”</p><p>He held up half the cards in each and then let them sift together effortlessly. I was so caught up in watching him work I didn’t notice Penelope nudging my knee at first. When I finally did, my eyes snapped back to her and she met my gaze with a smirk.</p><p>“Are you distracted? ‘Cause I can finish my makeup if –“ </p><p>Reid looked up and I uncapped the lipstick so fast I nearly dropped it, scooting a little further up the hospital bed as I fought to keep my voice from squeaking. “No, no! Just – just hold still. I’m almost done!” </p><p>Giggling to herself as Reid lost himself to shuffling again, I glared at her as I swiped over her lips. “It’s just so easy. Your blush is <i>so</i> cute –“</p><p>“Hurt or not, I <i>will</i> fight you,” I warned, leaning back to study my handy work. She <i>and</i> Reid snorted at that one and as I glared between the two of them, a knock at the door behind us caught our attention. </p><p>When I looked back to see Hotch, my greeting smile slowly slid off my face. I was proud to say I was slowly getting better at deciphering the many frowns and scowls of Aaron Hotchner, and the one he was wearing today told me this wasn’t gonna be a pleasant visit. </p><p>“Hey,” Penelope greeted, smiling up at him. For a moment his face softened as he asked her, </p><p>“How’re you feeling?”</p><p>“Well, I’ve had better dates,” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “But I’m alright.”</p><p>In the silence that followed, I caught the look of regret in Hotch’s dark gaze and my stomach churned. “Hotch, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“We found an encrypted file on your computer,” he began, and I felt Penelope deflate with his words. Reid and I looked back to her as Hotch asked firmly, “are you involved in something that I need to know about?”</p><p>“No,” Penelope whispered immediately; Hotch’s frown didn’t shift. </p><p>“Hotch? What’s going on?” I tried again; he ignored me still.</p><p>“Could this be connected in any way to who shot you?”</p><p>Penny shook her head slowly, but admitted, “I… maybe, but I really don’t think so.”</p><p>“I need the password,” he ordered, and instantly I caught the unspoken implications of what he was saying. </p><p>“What, you think that Penelope’s hiding something?”</p><p>“I don’t,” he told me, sparing a glance my direction for a moment. “But Internal Affairs does. Garcia, the password.”</p><p>“It’s Gilman Street,” she told him immediately, trying to keep her lip from trembling. Reid caught the look on her face and looked to Hotch with a frown.</p><p>“They don’t honestly think Garcia’s a security risk, do they?”</p><p>Hotch gave a heavy sigh, and for a moment his stoic frown was broken into a look of genuine, regrettable frustration. “I don’t know. Internal Affairs ordered us to stop working the case, and they won’t go farther with an explanation right now.”</p><p>“What?!” I asked incredulously, anger sparking through me. They couldn’t keep us from helping Penelope! “Hotch, there’s no way –“</p><p>“There’s more,” he cut in, eyes meeting Penelope’s in a silent apology. “Until this is all cleared up, you’ve been suspended. I’m sorry.”</p><p>The stunned silence fell like a blanket over the room and all three of us gaped up at Hotch. He pressed his lips together, gave a small nod, and was walking out of the room as Penelope finally squeaked out a soft, “right…”</p><p>The tears pooling in Penelope’s eyes snapped me back to the situation and I was scrambling off the bed instantly, scurrying out of the room. Long-Legs Hotchner was already halfway down the hall by the time I rounded the corner. </p><p>“Hotch! Wait!” I called, and thankfully he paused his retreat to let me catch up. Admittedly out of breath, I panted to him, “you – they can’t just suspend her. Hotch you <i>know</i> she’s not a threat. We’re the best people to find out who shot her, and until we do this guy’s still out there! We can’t just stop –“</p><p>“Internal Affairs ordered us to stop the morning after she was shot,” he admitted to me, shaking his head. “We’re already on thin ice, working this unauthorized as long as we did. I can’t push back against the suspension.”</p><p>“But Hotch, this isn’t fair. She didn’t do anything –“</p><p>“Aria,” he cut in, voice leaving no room for me to continue arguing like I was more than ready to do. Frustration swirled through me and I dropped my eyes, going silent though I wanted to keep pushing. Hotch stepped up to me and sat a hand on my shoulder. “The sooner we can get this figured out the sooner we can prove she’s not a security threat. I promise we’re doing all we can for her, regardless of what I.A. wants or not.”</p><p>I gave him a nod of understanding and mumbled, “I know it’s not your call. I’m sorry. I just feel helpless enough as it is, and to have them just essentially slap us in the face like this –“</p><p>“I understand,” he promised with a sigh. “We all feel the same way. I promise you we’re not abandoning Garcia.”</p><p>“Thank you,” I told him genuinely, smiling up at him and nodding in understanding. Hotch nodded back and tugged me to him, hugging me briefly before pulling away and nodding back down the hall. </p><p>“Stay with Reid and Garcia. I’ll call if anything else comes up.”</p><p>“Got it,” I sighed, reluctantly retreating back to Penelope’s room. I’d been expecting tears from Penelope, so when I saw her hastily tugging wires off herself and trying to get out of bed I paused in surprise. </p><p>Reid was up and trying to pull her back, and he threw me a desperate look of <i>help me please</i> as he tried to keep her from ripping more wires and tubes out.</p><p>“Penny! Hey! No, no, no. You need rest,” I said quickly, racing up and grabbing her shoulders, forcing her back into the bed as gently as I could. She gave a sharp shake of her head. </p><p>“I need to get out of here,” she insisted, trying to sit up again. I knelt on the bed for leverage and leaned against her shoulders to pin her against the pillows. “Aria, let me –“</p><p>“No. You need to stay plugged up for now. You don’t even have your staples out yet,” I reminded her, keeping her in place as Reid thankfully began to hook her back up. Bless his brilliant memory. “Hey, Pen. Listen to me. We’re gonna get this straightened out, okay? Hotch and the others aren’t stopping, and you already know I don’t give a damn what anyone else says. Whether it’s Internal Affairs or Strauss or <i>whoever</i> else wants to try and stop me, I’m not backing down until we find out who did this to you.”</p><p>She gave a watery sniff, looking up at me with a mixture of gratitude and concern. “Aria, one of the last things I told that jerkwad was that I believe everything happens for a reason. And right now – right now I don’t know what this all means. I don’t get it. It’s like, like I tried to do the right thing and now it’s all coming back at me. Why? What’s the reason? This doesn’t feel right but I just, if – if I lose faith in that, then nothing in my life makes sense.” </p><p>Tears spilled down her cheeks and I moved my hands to cup her face, gently sweeping them away. “Penelope, what’s this about?”</p><p>She sniffed and though I let go of her cheeks, I took her hands instead and let her toy with my fingers. Slowly, she took a few calming breaths and finally gathered what she wanted to say. </p><p>“I couldn’t make sense of my parents dying the way they did. It felt like my life was derailed, and I lost sight of my future. I dropped out of CalTech and basically lived underground. I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. The FBI keeps track of hackers like me. I was flagged for what I was doing behind the scenes, and they came after me. They wanted me.”</p><p>“They offered you a job?” I asked in surprise, and when she nodded Reid made a noise of intrigue. We both glanced at him and he explained, </p><p>“The FBI takes on those they think will benefit them, even if they don’t necessarily meet all qualifications. Like Frank Abagnale. They figured if they can’t beat ‘em, just hire ‘em.”</p><p>“Yeah, something like that,” Penelope confirmed, nodding up at him as she took a breath. “And so I told myself, this was why they died. They died to push me in the right direction. It’s a little morbid, I guess, but I wanted their death to have meaning. Without it, it was just senseless, and it kills me thinking that they died for no reason. You know?”</p><p>“I do,” I promised her, my mind going to Jude.” I’d thought the same thing after Gideon had offered me my internship. If it hadn’t been for my brother’s death, I don’t know if I would’ve ended up here. I felt like if there wasn’t some bigger picture, everything was just wasted.”</p><p>“Exactly,” she whispered. “But now I just don’t know. Because all this has done… all this has ended up leading me to is getting shot, and now I’m suspended over something so <i>stupid</i>…”</p><p>“What’s on that encrypted file?” I asked gently. “It’s nothing bad, right?”</p><p>She shook her head quickly and explained, “I have to keep record of everything the team does. Before you joined us, a few years back, my system got hacked and one of the team – her name was Elle – she got shot.” Penelope took a breath and looked between Reid and I. “You guys are my family. I love you, and I didn’t want anyone else being able to get at all of you. I wanted to protect you guys like you protect everyone else.”</p><p>“Then Hotch and the others will prove that, and as soon as they do, we’ll be okay,” I assured her, smiling at her and shifting to hug her tight. “In the meantime, what can we do to make this better?”</p><p>“Just being here helps,” she sniffled into my shoulder, squeezing me tight. “I just wanna go home. I’m tired of being plugged in and trapped in the world’s most uncomfortable bed.”</p><p>Well, her staples weren’t out, but maybe… as we pulled back I peeked up at Reid and gave him a meek smile. He studied my face for a moment and gave a soft chuckle, getting to his feet.  </p><p>“I’ll see if I can get the doctor to clear you to leave,” he told Penelope before he ducked out of the room. As I smiled after him I heard my best friend give a watery chuckle and say, </p><p>“With just a look you’ve got him at your mercy.” Face instantly flooding with heat, I looked back at her and she teased, “he’s got it <i>baaaad</i> for you, my little honey-nut cheerio.”</p><p>“He’s just trying to help <i>you</i>,” I deflected, trying to bite back my hopeful grin. Penelope giggled at my expression and I gave her a gentle shove back into the pillows. The two of us teased each other lightly until Reid reappeared. </p><p>Morgan, again, was suddenly at his side, beaming at Penelope. “The Good Doctor worked some magic and got you an early release, baby girl. I’m here to escort the princess to her castle.”</p><p>“I can go home?!” she asked excitedly, already scrambling to free herself. Morgan laughed and stepped up, taking over reigning in her excitement as I rolled off the bed to give them some space. I skirted back to the doorway, coming up to Reid’s side and leaning against his arm. </p><p>“Thanks for working your magic, Houdini,” I teased, getting his toothy grin as he ducked his head.</p><p>“Of course. I called Hotch, too. I’m going back to Quantico, but he said you and Morgan can bring Garcia home and get her settled in. He mentioned having you take the night off again, but I didn’t make any promises on that…”</p><p>I gave a snort and shook my head. “At least you know me better than that.”</p><p>Reid left a little while later, promising to update the rest of us as soon as he got caught up with the team. Within the hour, Morgan and I had Penelope discharged and back at her apartment. Morgan slung her bag over his shoulder and held the door for her as I took her hand and helped her out of the car. </p><p>As we made for the building, an officer crossed towards us, and Morgan stepped up. Though he was in uniform, I knew he was instantly wary. Penelope and I stopped a few feet back, my hand falling to my holstered gun as a precaution. </p><p>“I’m Officer Fleming,” the man said, holding out his credentials for Morgan to look over. “I’ll be on until midnight, and Officer Cranbeck will take over. We’ll have eyes out twenty-four seven.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Penelope said softly as Morgan gave a nod to me, giving the all-clear to keep going. I kept an arm linked with Penelope’s as we shuffled for the steps. Morgan stayed directly behind us, and he and I kept our heads on a swivel, looking around us to make sure nothing took us by surprise. I nearly stumbled – and Morgan almost collided with us – as Penelope came to a sudden stop. </p><p>We both glanced at her, and then followed her gaze down to the steps. My heart plummeted at the stain on the concrete. The feeling of my best friend’s blood spilling through my fingers, feeling her grow cold beneath my touch, watching her eyes glaze over… it came back to me in a painful, breathtaking ache and I held a little tighter to her arm. </p><p>“Come on,” Morgan said softly, a hand settling on Penelope’s arm as he looked between us. “That’s gonna wash off, and it’ll be nothin’ but a bad memory. Alright?”</p><p>“Alright,” Penelope managed, nodding as she allowed him to nudge her forward. I let her pull me along, my mind still wrapped around the pain and terror that stain represented. We were all quiet as we gathered into Penelope’s apartment, but once the door shut I pushed the angst to the back of my mind. </p><p>We weren’t focusing on the bad. Penelope was okay, she was alive, and she was home now. That’s what mattered. </p><p>“How about I make up your bed?” I offered, and she met my eyes with a grateful smile. Relieved to have something to do, I all but ran to the back of her apartment, ducking past her bead curtain and instantly diving into the task at hand. </p><p>In the background, I could hear Morgan and Penelope talking softly, and even heard the two of them giggling. Everything from the past week aside, even with Morgan’s outburst and all that had happened that night, I felt closer to them. To the whole team, honestly. Penelope’s words from earlier about being a family… that’s exactly what this felt like. </p><p>Through all the fights and disagreements, the ups and downs, the tragedies and miracles we were all dragged through each day… these people weren’t just my teammates, or my coworkers. They were my family. </p><p>Hell, they were more my family than anyone back in Colorado. With the exception of Aubrianna – and Jude, of course – I’d never been cared for the way these six people did. Nothing matched Hotch’s fatherly concern, or the gruff affection from Rossi, or the sisterly bond I’d grown into with Penelope, Emily, and JJ. Morgan – all things considered – was just as brotherly to me as Jude had always been. </p><p>Reid, well… a smile tugged at my lips. He was more than all of that. Sure, we called it friendship, but I’d never had a friend like him. Okay, I’d never even had feelings for anyone as strongly as I did for him. I’d never been so giddy after just sharing a smile with anyone, let alone how I felt after hugging him… </p><p><i>Focus, Aria</i>, I ordered, not wanting to get too carried away with anything. I had a point, after all. Reid was just showing me common decency and I was taking it and running with it, turning into something it just couldn’t be –</p><p>“I take it you ain’t leaving either,” Morgan asked, just inches from my ear. </p><p>“<i>Derek Morgan I swear to God</i>!” I gasped, slumping onto Penelope’s bed and scrambling around to glare at him. He bit back a snicker – poorly, I might add – as I tried to will my heart back into a steady rhythm. “No, I’m not – wait, <i>either</i>?”</p><p>“Please. You really think I’m gonna leave the two’a you alone and unprotected?” he laughed, giving me a look. I pointed at the window and reminded, </p><p>“There’s an officer just outside –“</p><p>“Yeah, and there’ll be an agent <i>inside</i>,” he argued. I gave him a deadpan frown and crossed my arms. </p><p>“I’m here too. And I passed my weapons qualifications –“</p><p>“Yeah, and I still remember your deadly attack with a throw pillow, y’little gremlin,” he snorted, shaking his head at me in amusement as I narrowed my eyes. “I ain’t leavin’ you two.”</p><p>Penelope shuffled past him and patted my shoulder gently. “Trust me, I already tried to shake him. He’s more stubborn than you, my dear.”</p><p>“I’m not stubborn,” I scoffed, admittedly not even believing that myself as the other two snorted in amusement. “Okay, whatever. Don’t you have resting you need to be doing?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, playfully nudging me along. “Come on. Morgan’s stealing the couch so you and I can snuggle up. That way if Morgan tries to take advantage of me, you’ll be right there to revive me.”</p><p>The look of alarmed disgust on my face had her dissolving into giggles as Morgan busted out laughing behind us. As Penelope went to crawl into bed – and I went to follow – he called out, </p><p>“Hey, silly girls.” We both looked back at him and his face softened into a gentle smile. “You know I love you two, right?”</p><p>“I love you too,” Penelope murmured, grinning back at him. He flicked his eyes to me and as I went to answer he smirked and added,</p><p>“I mean, I’m sure I don’t love you as much as a certain pretty doctor does, but –“</p><p>“That’s it. I was gonna say I love you too, but I rescind my affection,” I snapped, face lighting up and a full-body blush instantly taking over as Penelope cackled at my shoulder. “Everyone shut up and go to sleep.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, lover girl. I’ll see you pretty ladies in the morning.”</p><p>Still chuckling to himself, Morgan made for the couch and shut off the living room light on the way. The soft glow of Penelope’s bedside lamp settled over us as we both crawled under the covers, dissolving into sleep. </p><p>--</p><p>
  <i>“I see you come through here all the time.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Terror trickled through my body and I turned slowly. The lobby of Quantico was empty, and his voice rang out around me, echoing off the walls and reminding me of just how alone we really were. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>For a moment it was Connor grinning maliciously at me, but as I blinked his face shifted back to Chris – or, who I thought was Chris. He took a step towards me, pulling a gun from the waist of his pants.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You know what, Aria? I’ve been thinking about doing this all night.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He lifted the gun, but he didn’t point it at me. His aim slid to my right and I turned. Penelope was just getting off the elevator, crossing towards me, oblivious to the danger she was walking into. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Penny, stop!” I cried, my voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper; she didn’t hear my warning. First-Floor Hottie let out a cold laugh, and I heard him cock the gun. “Penelope! Stop, please!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>My words reached her this time and she paused, surprised, slowly turning to look at the man pointing a gun at her. She gasped, and instantly turned back to me in terror.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Aria, help me!” she begged, starting to run for me. I tried to reach her but I couldn’t move. I was cemented in my spot, desperately reaching for her. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Penelope no –”</i>
</p><p>A gunshot rang out through the apartment and I jolted awake. For a moment, I thought it had just been in my dream, but before I could relax, another shot went off from outside. This wasn’t a dream.</p><p>Penelope’s attacker was here.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys! Happy Monday! Sorry this one was a little later in the day than usual, but I hope the longer chapter makes up for it! Sorry about the cliffhanger again (kind of... okay, not really...) but I hope you liked how this one went! So much happened, and I'd love to hear your thoughts! What do you think of her and Morgan's talk? What about Reid's concern? Does Aria just need to confess about Connor? What's gonna happen with First-Floor Hottie showing up now?!</p><p>Let me know your thoughts! I love hearing from you! I'd apologize for the giant update but you guys seem to enjoy the longer chapters so I hope this was okay! As always I appreciate all of you SO much and I love hearing from you each week. Honestly, I look forward to Monday because I'm excited to chat with you guys again!</p><p>I hope you guys liked the chapter, and I hope you have a wonderful week! I'll see y'all next Monday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Fake Chris</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x09 - Penelope<i></i></i>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/627987261610426368/chapter-23-is-up">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the light drifting in from the streetlamp outside, I could make out Penelope’s wide, terrified eyes staring up at me as she clung to my arm. Morgan moved faster than I ever thought possible, literally vaulting the couch and skidding to a stop by the window. </p>
<p>“What’s going on?” Penelope hissed to him; I could feel her shaking against me. Morgan tugged back the curtains just a hint to check outside and instantly spun around. At the look on his face, I leaned around Penelope and pulled my gun out of its holster.</p>
<p>“Come here, come with me,” Morgan hissed, beckoning us to him urgently. Carefully detangling myself from my best friend, I scrambled off the bed and took her hand, helping her stand. Her hand went to her stomach, grimacing as we rushed to Morgan. </p>
<p>The moment I was within reach he snagged my arm and pulled me to him, Penelope in tow. He ushered us to the far corner of the apartment and then pulled her off me to push her back between the wall and one of her shelves. </p>
<p>“Sunshine, stay here with Garcia, alright?” he said quickly, unholstering his own pistol as he pushed me in front of Penelope. I nodded quickly, gripping my gun with both hands and forcing myself to keep calm. “Listen to me. Anyone walks through that door, you shoot. You shoot first and ask questions later. Don’t hesitate, don’t second guess, you just shoot. Do you understand me?”</p>
<p>“Morgan, what’s – you’re not, you can’t leave us,” Penelope panicked, shaking her head as she pressed against me, trembling so hard her voice shook. “Please don’t leave us –“</p>
<p>“Aria, do you understand me?” he asked sharply, ignoring Penny’s pleading. I nodded quickly and flicked the safety off. </p>
<p>“I understand. I’ve got her,” I promised, holding his unwavering stare with one of my own. He gave a single nod and rushed out of the apartment. Penelope let out a terrified sob and I stepped back against her to comfort as best as I could. </p>
<p>“He’s back, he came back,” she panicked, moments from hyperventilating, hands tangling into my shirt as she bundled against me. “Aria he came back for me, he’s coming after me –“</p>
<p>“It’s gonna be okay, Penny, I promise you. I’m right here with you, okay? Morgan and I are here, and we’re not letting anything happen to you. I swear it,” I told her fiercely, voice calm and steady. I might’ve been scared, but I had a job to do.</p>
<p>I’d let her down last time this son of a bitch came after her, but I could protect her now. Not a damn thing was happening to my best friend tonight. I kept my gun trained steadily at the door, not even flinching at the next gunshot that rang out. </p>
<p>“Oh god, Morgan!” she gasped, trying to move around me. I planted my feet and leaned back against her to hold her in place, not letting my aim falter as I murmured, </p>
<p>“Stay back, he’s got this. We need to keep you safe –“</p>
<p>Another gunshot went off, closer this time, and I moved a hand to reach back and grab Penelope’s arm. She jumped at the contact at first and then reached up to lace our fingers together and cling to my hold. We were too exposed here, and if – God forbid – something happened to Morgan, I needed to get Penelope somewhere sheltered so I could focus on taking out this Adonis asshole. </p>
<p>“We’re gonna move over to the kitchen,” I said softly to her, taking a few steps forward and tugging her immediately after, keeping her pressed up close to me. “That’s it, just stay with me, alright? I’m right here.”</p>
<p>She nodded shakily and we slipped across the apartment. The moment she was on the tile of the kitchen I nudged her back to stand between the wall and the table, as sheltered as I could get her. I planted myself at her side, gun still aimed towards the door. </p>
<p>For several long, painful minutes, there was nothing but silence. No shouting, no gunshots, just deafening calm. I kept my arms up, ignoring the burning in my muscles, mind set on protecting Penelope. </p>
<p>Finally, I heard footsteps on the stairs. They were swift and light, and I couldn’t tell if it was Morgan’s walk or not. Penelope tensed at my side and I took a breath, steadying my aim and waiting. A shadow flickered into the apartment from the open door, and I braced to shoot. </p>
<p>Morgan whipped around the corner, gun level at my head, and both of our fingers twitched towards the trigger. We realized exactly who we were staring at in the same moment and both instantly dropped our aim. </p>
<p>“Morgan, it’s me!” I gasped at the same time he rushed out,</p>
<p>“Woah, sunshine, it’s me!” We both let out shaky, adrenaline-fueled breaths and slumped against either side of the counter across from one another. He caught my eye as I slowly righted myself and pointed out, “I thought I told you to shoot without hesitation.”</p>
<p>“Are you <i>really</i> criticizing my choice on that?” I asked him dryly as I sat my gun on the counter; before he could reply, Penelope let out a sob as she reattached herself to my side. She was terrified, and I didn’t blame her one bit. </p>
<p>Morgan was around the corner in the next moment as I turned and engulfed my best friend in a hug. He wrapped an arm around each one of us and we all leaned into the group hug, taking several moments of silence with each other. </p>
<p>“Why is this happening to me?” Penelope choked out against my shoulder. Morgan caught my eye and we shared a heavy look, both at a total loss for what to say. Finally, he managed to shake his head and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple as he murmured apologetically, </p>
<p>“I don’t know, baby girl. I don’t know.”</p>
<p>Slowly, eventually, the three of us moved to the living room. We could hear sirens approaching in the distance and Morgan skirted past us to peek out the window as I settled Penelope onto the couch. I perched on the arm behind her and instantly she leaned back against me; my arm wrapped around her shoulders from behind and she held me tight against her.</p>
<p>“Reid and JJ are headin’ up,” Morgan told us, leaving the window to come gather beside us. Sure enough, not a minute later JJ was rushing into the apartment with the scruffy doctor right behind her. </p>
<p>“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked, instantly coming over to kneel in front of us, a hand settling on Penelope’s knee. “Hotch just told us there’d been a shooting –“</p>
<p>“He came back,” Penelope whispered; I felt the hitch of her breath, and a tear fell onto my arm. JJ reached up and brushed the rest away as I hugged my best friend a little tighter. “He – he was watching us. Watching me. He came after me the <i>night</i> I got home and now he’s out there and we don’t know where –“</p>
<p>JJ cupped her face and gave a soft, soothing smile as she spoke gently, “take a deep breath. It’s gonna be okay. He <i>did</i> come back but nothing happened to you. Aria and Morgan kept you safe, and we’ll <i>continue</i> to keep you safe until this is all over.”</p>
<p>“But how long will that be?” Penelope asked, voice tight with anxiety. “You guys can’t keep this up forever –“</p>
<p>“You bet your ass we can,” I assured, squeezing her softly as I leaned against her, pressing my cheek to hers. “We’re not going anywhere until you’re totally safe. No matter what he tries to pull.”</p>
<p>Morgan sighed and folded his arms over his chest, glancing down at us and then over to JJ and Reid. “This guy’s getting seriously bold. Garcia’s right, he had to be watchin’ us. He knew she was here with two federal agents <i>and</i> an officer outside, and he still made a move. For whatever reason, this guy <i>really</i> wants to get to her.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think it’s just Garcia he’s after,” Reid said slowly, his brow furrowed. As I went to ask what he meant, his troubled gaze flitted onto me. “I think you’re part of this too.”</p>
<p>Though I made a noise of doubt, Morgan and JJ both shared a look of realization.</p>
<p>“That would make sense, actually,” JJ agreed; at the look on my face she elaborated, “think about it. Even knowing all the obstacles, he still tried to get in here. He knew you <i>and</i> Garcia were both here, and he assumed you’d be caught off guard. It was a higher risk, but it’d have a higher reward if he was going after both of you.”</p>
<p>“Okay, that’s true, but back up,” I said quickly, holding up my hand before Morgan and Reid could jump on the idea too. “What reason would he have to go after <i>me</i>? I don’t –“</p>
<p>“You know what he looks like.” Penelope’s gasp of realization startled me, even more so when she turned to stare up at me with wide, frightened eyes. “He asked about you, and you were the first one he ran into. He knows you could identify him.”</p>
<p>“You’re a threat to him,” Reid confirmed; the tone of his voice caught my attention and I briefly looked away from Penelope to meet his gaze. There was a deep, burning concern behind his coffee eyes and it only deepened as I blinked over at him. It was the same look he’d given when he’d found me in the hospital, the same one he gave on Halloween when he’d noticed I’d been crying.</p>
<p>He was worried about me. </p>
<p>Before I could get caught up in the swirl of warmth that instantly blossomed in my chest, JJ pulled us back to the current issue. She shifted to sit on the couch next to Penelope as she asked, </p>
<p>“Do you have any idea why he could be going after you?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I don’t know what he wants from me,” she said honestly, giving a frustrated sigh. Reid shifted forward and offered, </p>
<p>“Could you know something about him? Do you have something he might want?”</p>
<p>Penelope shook her head and repeated, “I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, I don’t – I don’t even know who he actually is!”</p>
<p>As JJ, Reid, Morgan, and I shared looks of frustration – all just as lost as one another – three new faces rushed into the apartment. Emily made a beeline for the couch of comfort as Hotch and Rossi gathered on either side of Reid. </p>
<p>“Are you all okay?” Em asked as she wedged herself in on Penelope’s other side, sitting up against me as well. Penny instantly melted into her hug – still clinging to JJ with my arm secure around her shoulders – and she nodded firmly. Emily glanced back to check with Morgan and I, and when we nodded as well she said, “Garcia, we should really get you back to the hospital –“</p>
<p>“What?! No!” Penelope instantly argued, and Morgan reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder; I was surprised he found any room to get a hold on her with the three of us draped against her. </p>
<p>“We need to get you someplace safe, baby girl.”</p>
<p>Penelope sniffed and lifted her head, looking around at the group as she said softly, “I… I feel safest here. With all of you.” As Hotch opened his mouth to argue, she said quickly, “even with him here, coming after us… Morgan and Aria kept me totally safe…”</p>
<p>Her words trailed off, and her head turned slowly to look first into the kitchen, and then back at the corner Morgan had stuffed us into. JJ turned and patted her knee. “Garcia?”</p>
<p>When she didn’t respond, all of us shared a concerned look and Emily turned too, squeezing her arm. “Penelope? Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“When we were at dinner, they wanted to seat us by a window, but he insisted on sitting at the worst table they had. Just so he could put his back against the corner…” her gaze again flicked to the corner of her room, the kitchen, and then up to Morgan and I. “Just like you two did.”</p>
<p>The instinct to protect himself and keep watch, the fact that he’d managed to somehow get himself into the FBI building without question… this guy was in law enforcement. The realization that settled over the group put all eight of us into instant alert, which only heightened when two of the local detectives came into the apartment. </p>
<p>“Detectives,” Hotch said quickly, holding a hand out to keep them from walking further inside. “Can you clear the room for just a minute?”</p>
<p>“One of my cops is dead downstairs, Agent –“</p>
<p>“I understand, and we’re working to bring him to justice. We just need a couple minutes.”</p>
<p>The detective sighed, glanced around at the rest of us, but gave a curt nod. He motioned for the other detective to follow, and as soon as they were gone Hotch followed them and shut the door. The rest of the team crowded closer and Penelope looked around, clearly a little unnerved by the sudden intensity from all of us. </p>
<p>“Tell us about the car,” Morgan asked. When I felt her pause in confusion, I assured, </p>
<p>“Just go with him. You said it was a white, four-door, American model. What else do you remember?”</p>
<p>Penelope turned to look up at me, totally lost. “I – that was it. I told you I don’t look at things like –“</p>
<p>“I know you’ve got more in that gorgeous brain of yours,” Morgan coaxed, moving to kneel at her side as he stared up at her in assurance. “You noticed more than you think you did. Think really hard for me, alright? Anything at all. Anything that sticks out –“</p>
<p>“His seatbelt was buckled behind his back,” she said slowly. “I just thought it was kind of weird, but I don’t –“ Admittedly, I was just as surprised at the looks from the rest of the team as she was. “Wait. Why does that matter?”</p>
<p>“It was a surveillance vehicle,” Reid explained. “Agents don’t wear seatbelts, in case they’ve got to get in and out of a car quickly. A lot of vehicles now have belt alerts so it’s common practice for law enforcement to just kept the belt buckled without putting it on –“</p>
<p>“Alright, let’s cut the crap. You need to be straight with us <i>right now</i>,” Rossi snapped, startling myself, Penelope, <i>and</i> JJ as he surged forward. Penelope instantly looked to me, and then the rest of the team but Rossi leaned closer and ordered, “no. Look at me, not them.”</p>
<p>“I – I’m not hiding anything,” she stammered, and Rossi leaned closer. </p>
<p>“You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,” he cut in, and when she glanced back to me in alarm he yelled, “Eyes here! Now!”</p>
<p>“<i>Hey</i>,” I snapped, letting go of Penelope to shift forward on the arm of the couch. “Don’t yell at her –“</p>
<p>He put his hand up in my face to silence me and my anger instantly burst out; I shoved his arm down and got to my feet as he yelled at Penelope, </p>
<p>“You’ve got a room full of FBI agents willing to believe that a member of law enforcement is trying to kill you. We need to know every last thing you do on company time that we don’t know about.” Penelope hesitated and he snarled, “tell me!”</p>
<p>“That’s enough, Rossi,” I defended, moving to get in front of Penelope. He actually reached up and pushed me back against the couch as he moved closer to Penelope. I bumped against the side of it and Morgan steadied me, then held me in place as I went go shove Rossi’s rude, Italian ass right back. “Leave her alone –“</p>
<p>“Tell me right now, Penelope!”</p>
<p>“It – it’s nothing bad!” she squeaked out, and now I paused my attempted attack to look down at her in confusion. She <i>was</i> doing something we didn’t know about? “I just – I counsel victims’ families a-and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them!”</p>
<p>“What does that mean?” Rossi demanded. </p>
<p>“That just means – it means the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them. So that whoever’s investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority.”</p>
<p>“You’re not authorized to do that,” Hotch spoke up, voice low with frustration. It wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear, especially with doing what we could to fight Penelope’s suspension. I went to defend her but at the look he shot me I snapped my mouth shut again.</p>
<p>Penelope nodded at Hotch and said quickly, “I know, I know. I was just trying to help.”</p>
<p>“Penny, whoever’s working those cases, they think you’re watching them,” I said softly, relaxing my attack stance to settle on the arm of the couch and take her hand again. She looked up at me, tears in her eyes as she rushed out, </p>
<p>“I just wanted to put pressure on them so they didn’t slide. You know they slide! They get lost and nothing gets done and I –“</p>
<p>“How many cases are we talking about?” Hotch asked her, folding his arms over his chest; Penelope didn’t meet his eyes and I didn’t blame her. </p>
<p>“I don’t know. Seven, maybe eight? I’d have to get into my system –“</p>
<p>“You can’t. You’re suspended,” he reminded her, and she deflated a little more. Before they could keep going, Reid sat up and asked her quickly, </p>
<p>“Wait. Garcia. You said this guy was asking you about murder cases specifically, right?”</p>
<p>She nodded. “Yeah, he said he was just curious because those are the cases he used to work as a lawyer.”</p>
<p>“Well all we’d have to do is look at those files then, right?” I added quickly, instantly picking up on Reid’s brainwave. “He’s the one working them, and if there’s someone in common on all the murder cases flagged, that’d be our guy.”</p>
<p>Rossi finally stood and looked back at Hotch, motioning to Penelope. “<i>She</i> might not have access to those files, but the rest of us would. Any one of our logins would have access to the files.”</p>
<p>“If we start looking into this, though, Internal Affairs would see us back in the investigation,” Emily pointed out. Hotch nodded slowly and looked around the room. </p>
<p>“That’s why it won’t be our login we use,” he told us all slowly. “If we have another tech analyst log in, they’d be able to reach those files, wouldn’t they?”</p>
<p>Penelope nodded slowly. “Yeah… but I mean, if any of us are logged in it could still be routed to the team. They could still pin it on whichever one of us was in the system at the time.”</p>
<p>“Who’s certain they logged out the last time they left?” Hotch asked us. Reid raised his hand instantly; no surprise there. He was so technophobic he barely even logged <i>in</i> most days. Morgan and Emily both raised their hands too, and Hotch glanced to me. </p>
<p>“I… have no idea,” I admitted, giving him a sheepish smile. Morgan snorted from behind me; he always teased me about forgetting to log out. </p>
<p>“Alright. Dave, JJ, Aria, and I will go back to the office to ensure we’re all logged out, and to do what we can to keep the suspicion down. Morgan, Reid, Prentiss, stay here with Garcia. I’ll have the other analyst coordinate with you all to go through the files.”</p>
<p>As the other three moved to follow Hotch, I turned and hugged Penelope tight to me. Her arms locked like vices around me and she said quickly, </p>
<p>“I’m so sorry. I never meant to cause any trouble like this. I just wanted to help.”</p>
<p>“I know you didn’t, Penny. It’s not your fault, alright? We’re gonna find this guy now and we’ll keep you safe.”</p>
<p>As I pulled back she caught my hand and said, </p>
<p>“You stay safe too, though. Reid’s right, he’s probably after you.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be in the heart of the FBI headquarters with Hotch and the six dozen guns he has hidden on himself at all times,” I pointed out; there was a snort from the hall that sounded suspiciously like JJ. As I popped up and headed for the door, I pecked her cheek swiftly. “I’ll be just fine.”</p>
<p>As I passed Reid, he cleared his throat and I paused for a moment to look down at him. He quirked a smile and told me,</p>
<p>“<i>Pozhaluysta, bud’ ostorozhen.</i>”</p>
<p>I didn’t understand the words, but I understood the meaning behind them. <i>Stay safe.</i> Grinning and letting the warmth of his earlier concern wash over me, I nodded and told him, </p>
<p>“<i>Rimanga sicuro (stay safe).</i>”s</p>
<p>As I glanced back to give Penelope a reassuring smile, I saw her, Morgan, and Emily smirking dangerously at Reid. It’d totally slipped my mind that none of them knew about our Italian-Russian thing, and now they were all apparently <i>extremely</i> interested in this new piece of information. </p>
<p>Thank god I was leaving. </p>
<p>I turned to scamper down the stairs and nearly collided with Rossi. He caught my arms as I stifled the shriek I almost let out, and all of my irritation from earlier instantly surfaced at him. </p>
<p>“Do you mind not doing that?” I bit out, rolling my shoulders sharply to break his hold as I turned to stalk down the stairs. </p>
<p>“Alright, kiddo, I know you’re not happy with how I spoke to Garcia,” he began as he started after me. </p>
<p>“You don’t say,” I scoffed, throwing him a look over my shoulder at the landing before heading down the next set. “And here I thought I was hiding animosity pretty damn well.”</p>
<p>“Being away from my family, I sometimes forget how dangerous it is to anger an Italian woman. I’m glad you’re here to remind me before I get myself killed at the next Rossi gathering,” he chuckled. </p>
<p>“Glad I could be of service,” I snarked, moving to zip out to the SUV the moment we hit the lobby. Rossi, avid profiler he was, caught my intention in time and snagged my wrist to tug me to a stop. When I turned to snap at him he dropped his hold and held his hands up in defense as he said,  </p>
<p>“Look, we’re pressed to find this guy fast. We needed the complete, candid truth and –“</p>
<p>“And under duress someone’s more likely to be honest and give genuine replies. I know,” I assured him, still frowning. “That doesn’t change the fact you almost made Penelope cry.”</p>
<p>“I did, and it wasn’t my intention. I’m not going to apologize for questioning her the way I did –“ at the look on my face he lifted his hands a little higher. “But I <i>am</i> sorry for upsetting her that much. As soon as we’ve got this settled, I promise you I’ll make things right with Penelope.” </p>
<p>I held his gaze with my glare for another several seconds before narrowing my eyes and giving a small nod as I turned to continue leading us out to the SUV. “Fine. I’m holding you to that. But,” I added, pausing again and turning to point a finger at him. “You push me again, David Rossi, and I’ll gladly remind you <i>exactly</i> how dangerous an angry Italian woman can be.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Okeydokey, I’m all logged out,” I told Hotch as I leaned into his office. He glanced up from the mass of paperwork that had overtaken his desk, giving me a quick nod as he continued to sift through the paperwork. “Is that all from Internal Affairs?”</p>
<p>“It is,” he bit out, the distaste so heavy in his words I could feel it. “We’ll need JJ to try and reroute this to help keep them from fully terminating Garcia while we work to clear this up. Would you –“</p>
<p>I was already crossing to him, holding my hand out. “Consider it done.”</p>
<p>He offered me a brief but genuine smile as he passed me a couple folders, and I scampered off towards JJ’s office. As I skirted out of the bullpen and rounded the corner I nearly ran smack-dab into an older gentleman in an overly-crisp suit and tie. He instantly went to brush me off, but his gaze flicked from me, then back to where I’d just come from. </p>
<p>“Miss, do you work on this floor?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I do. Well, I’m actually just an intern with the BAU –“</p>
<p>“Great, great. We’ll need your assistance. Mr. Lynch, now that we’ve got someone to log you in, can you access what we need?”</p>
<p>The man at his side slowly turned to look at me; wasn’t this the analyst Hotch had put on going through Penelope’s files with Reid, Morgan, and Emily? What the heck was he doing out here, instead of helping us find this crazed, murderous agent?!</p>
<p>Mr. Lynch wore a mask of calm, but there was a flicker of panic in his eyes as he looked between us. “I, uh, I guess so. Yeah. Yep. Just um, just lead the way…”</p>
<p>Frowning up at him, instantly on edge from the veiled terror on his face, I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong when a third man – a local officer – turned around and stepped up to our group. Blonde hair, blue eyes, obnoxiously handsome features. My stomach dropped and my heart came skidding to a stop. </p>
<p>Fake Chris. </p>
<p>My hand instantly fell to my thigh but my fingers came up empty. Oh my <i>god</i>, my gun and holster were back at Penelope’s! <i>Damnit, Aria</i>! Not good! This was very, very <i>not</i> good! Fake Chris had copied my movement, shifting to grab gun on his hip – that, unlike mine, was actually there – and when he saw my hand falter he paused. A slow, knowing smile spread onto his face and I saw him subtly slip the safety off his weapon. He knew I was powerless. </p>
<p>“Thanks for helping us out, miss,” he said slowly, his eyes flicking to Mr. Lynch briefly and then back to me as he toyed with the handle of his gun. A threat; one wrong move and he’d start shooting. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your department’s cooperation.”</p>
<p><i>Shit.</i> My phone was in my purse – on my desk – and Hotch and Rossi were in their offices. My hands tightened nervously on the files – <i>the files</i>! Instantly I swept the halls, praying JJ was nearby, hoping she’d be near to see the panic on my face and know to go get help. Coming up empty – and not able to stall without looking suspicious – I slowly led the others into the bullpen. </p>
<p>At first I was headed for my desk, but instincts had begun to kick in and I reevaluated the situation. My desk was in the heart of the office and bringing him fully inside would put even more people at risk. Close to the door and not surrounded by bystanders would be the best bet. </p>
<p>I slipped into the first open desk I saw and – forcing my hands steady – I slowly logged in. Fake Chris moved to my side, hitching his hip on the desk, gun just inches from my arm. His hand was resting on his waist but his fingers were still brushing the handle. He’d be able to draw and fire before I could make an effective move, and there were too many innocent people around to risk it. </p>
<p>
  <i>Shit, shit, shit.</i>
</p>
<p>As soon as the screen loaded, I stood and turned to Mr. Lynch, my back to Fake Chris. He caught my eye and we shared a brief, knowingly-terrified look. How he knew this guy was bad news, I had no idea, but thank <i>god</i> he had the wherewithal to play it cool. If he could just buy us some time, maybe Hotch and his mind-reading skills would sense I needed help… he was at his desk and the blinds were open. If I could just get him to look up…</p>
<p>As Mr. Lynch sank down into seat I stood at his shoulder, trying to angle myself between him and the gun just a few inches from him. Fake Chris subtly eased his foot out, catching my own and pushing back against it. When I tried to move again his hand shifted to fully rest on the handle. Another warning; stay put. </p>
<p>
  <i><b>Shit, shit, SHIT</b>.</i>
</p>
<p>“What’s your name, hun?” </p>
<p>It took me a second to realize Fake Chris was talking to me. I mean, I’d already told him my name when we’d first met… when I met his eyes his smirk grew. <i>A classic narcissist. He’s getting off on his power over me. He’s just putting on a show to keep me quiet and under his control... just like Connor.</i></p>
<p>I knew exactly how to handle him. </p>
<p>“Aria,” I told him simply, holding his gaze with an unwavering one of my own. <i>No fear. Don’t give him any more power.</i></p>
<p>“Aria… pretty. Just like you,” he mused, giving me a showy wink; he <i>and</i> the suit that had roped me into this chuckled at that. <i>Can’t punch Fake Chris, but this asshole’s gonna end up eating his tie if he’s not careful</i>, I growled to myself, forcing my face to stay neutral. </p>
<p>“What, uh, what name am I finding these files for?” Mr. Lynch piped up.</p>
<p>“Jason Battle. B-A-T-T-L-E,” Fake Chris – well, <i>Jason Battle</i> - spelled out, holding my stare the whole time as his smile grew. This was just a game to him, and I had a feeling I wasn’t gonna win. “So tell me <i>Aria</i>, do you have any idea why your analyst was looking into my murder cases? I just don’t understand.”</p>
<p>I crossed my arms over my chest and gave a shrug. “Couldn’t tell you, sorry. I’m just an intern, stuff like that’s out of my paygrade.”</p>
<p>He narrowed his eyes just a hint at my dismissal and I blinked innocently up at him.</p>
<p>“You don’t have a thing to worry about, Deputy Battle,” Suit-Man behind me assured. “To be honest, the woman in question is currently under investigation.”</p>
<p>Ah, he must be with Internal Affairs. <i>If I punch him in the face I bet Hotch would totally back me.</i></p>
<p>“Do you think she could be involved in those cases?” Battle asked in fake concern, eyes glinting as he briefly broke his stare with me to watch what Mr. Lynch was doing. I took my chance and quickly looked to Hotch’s office; he was still buried in his files. Damn him and his amazing work ethic! Couldn’t he slack for a couple minutes, go on a snack run or something?</p>
<p><i>Hotch, I KNOW you can secretly read minds and I need you to tap into your superpowers and help get this creep under control,</i> I thought as loud as I could. Okay, yeah, maybe that was a little far-fetched. Desperate times, alright?</p>
<p>“You know, I really couldn’t say,” Suit-Man apologized. “As soon as we know more, though, you’ll be the first we go to.”</p>
<p>“Well, wouldn’t it be easier to just let me speak with her? I’m sure the lovely Aria here could help us arrange that –“</p>
<p>“No,” I said a little too quickly, getting a look from Suit-Man as Battle quickly hid his smirk, pleased he’d gotten a reaction from me. “She’s actually in the hospital so she’s not up for questioning –“</p>
<p>Battle gave a humorless chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, once we’re done here, why don’t you and I take a trip to visit her? I can get a few questions out of the way, help speed things along for you all…”</p>
<p>
  <i>Absolutely not. There’s no way you’re getting near her –</i>
</p>
<p>“I don’t see why not,” Suit-Man decided, and I actually turned to give him an incredulous look; he leaned back a hint at the scowl I fixed him with. I mean <i>come on</i>, there had to be rules or regulations or <i>something</i> about not letting random officers just go and talk with potential suspects!</p>
<p>As I turned back to Battle, he was nearly grinning ear-t0-ear. It hit me a moment later, and I tensed up realizing what Suit-Man had just agreed to. As soon as Mr. Lynch was done, I’d be escorted out of here by the murderous cop who would undoubtedly try to kill me the moment we were alone. </p>
<p>
  <i><b>SHIT! SHIT! SHIT</b>!</i>
</p>
<p>“Well then, Mr. Lynch. Why don’t you get the rest of my files out of the system, and Miss Aria and I can be on our way. Hell, maybe we can get this all wrapped up by tomorrow for you.”</p>
<p>He and Suit-Man chuckled with each other again – <i>seriously I’m gonna deck this tie-clad son-of-a-bitch</i> – and Mr. Lynch glanced back at us to nod his agreement. He caught my eye and gave me a look of understanding. He knew exactly what would happen to me as soon as he finished up, and what would happen to <i>him</i> if he didn’t. </p>
<p>We were screwed six ways to Sunday. </p>
<p>I caught him pulling up several different boxes on the monitor I was fairly certain he didn’t need, and I prayed this guy had something up his sleeve. Battle stood up and as his hand settled on his gun, I honestly braced for him to start shooting. Catching me tense – and smirking proudly at the fear he was pulling from me – he began to pace behind me. </p>
<p>Every time he walked by, his elbow brushed my back, reminding me he was right there – ready to shoot. Reminding me of the absolutely helpless position I was in. As he turned to pace again, briefly taking his eyes off us, Mr. Lynch’s hand shot out and briefly tapped my thigh, glancing back for just a heartbeat and then flicking his eyes to the computer. </p>
<p>He had something. </p>
<p>What that something was, I had no clue, but we weren’t dead yet. We were still powerless though, and if Battle managed to get out of the bullpen with me… God, Hotch was just a couple dozen yards away…</p>
<p><i>Look up. Just look up, Hotch. Look at me,</i> I begged as loud as I could, willing him to somehow hear me. <i>Look up, look up, look up, god I need help, Hotch! Look up –</i></p>
<p>Hotch stood slowly from his desk and – to my absolute disbelief – he turned and met my pleading gaze. Oh my god, it had worked?! He’d seriously picked up on my brainwaves?! I was honestly so stunned I completely forgot the immense danger behind me for a few seconds. </p>
<p>When Hotch shifted closer to the window, I saw the phone to his ear. </p>
<p><i>Ah. Mr. Lynch must’ve gotten ahold of someone on the team and they’d called him</i>, I sighed dejectedly. Okay, yeah, I guess that made more sense than him reading my mind. For now. </p>
<p>His eyes flicked over my shoulder to Battle, and then back to me. <i>Do you know?</i></p>
<p>I gave a small nod, and he pressed his lips together, realizing the situation. My own gaze flicked to the side as he paced by my shoulder, and then back to Hotch. <i>Do I try and intervene?</i></p>
<p>Hotch shook his head instantly and mouthed, <i>don’t move</i>. I gave a barely-there nod in acknowledgement and quickly dropped my eyes to the monitor as I felt Battle pause briefly to look at me. His body language was shifting, growing more and more tense, and the hand on his gun had begun to twitch. When I looked up at him for a brief moment I caught the glint of frustration in his eyes before he started moving again. </p>
<p><i>He’s getting nervous. He’s starting to spiral, and if he fully devolves while he’s in here, everyone’s at risk.</i> Out of my peripheral I saw Hotch stroll out of his office, keeping a casual pace as he headed for Rossi. <i>Please tell me you have something up your sleeve. I have no idea what to –</i></p>
<p>Battle’s hands clamped onto my shoulder’s from behind and he leaned against me, head beside mine as he studied the monitor. “Is there a problem here, Mr. Lynch?”</p>
<p>“Uh, n-no, I’m sorry,” he stammered quickly, sparing a glance back to us. He saw the hold Battle had on me and he quickly turned back around before he showed his panic. <i>Thank god this guy is smart</i>. “It’s – it’s not my system so it’s just taking a little longer. I’m almost done, though.”</p>
<p>Battle’s fingers dug into my shoulders, the threat of his hold sinking in. He knew this was being delayed, he knew something was up. He felt cornered, and I was his safety net. My eyes quickly flicked to the ramp and I saw both Hotch and Rossi slowly making their way towards us. Hotch met my eyes again and gave me a brief blink of assurance before he turned back to Rossi. </p>
<p>I really, <i>really</i> hoped they knew what to do because we were out of time. </p>
<p>“Alrighty,” Mr. Lynch told him, turning to look up at us with a tight smile. “All done.”</p>
<p>Hotch and Rossi glanced our direction again and I felt Battle tense, fingers digging painfully into my shoulders now. My heart sank straight into my stomach. He knew. He’d figured out they were onto him. </p>
<p>I threw Hotch a panicked look as Battle asked Mr. Lynch, “You’re sure my files are wiped out of the system?”</p>
<p>He saw the warning in my stare and he and Rossi instantly split up, stalking towards us. Battle righted himself as Mr. Lynch nodded and gave a quick <i>yes, sir</i>. Suit-Man even leaned forward and gave him a pat on the shoulder, oblivious to the rising tension around him.</p>
<p>Rossi and Hotch were closing in and Battle was moments away from fully breaking. What did I do? Did I try to subdue him? I mean, Morgan had been pretty steady with the self-defense. Maybe I could just get him to the ground, or block him long enough to let the others reach us… </p>
<p>Hotch caught the shift in my gaze and he gave a near-imperceptible shake of his head. </p>
<p>“Alright, Deputy, I’ll keep you updated on our investigation.” Suit-Man began. Battle righted himself and for a heartbeat his hands left my shoulders. “Good luck with speaking to Miss Garcia –“</p>
<p>I was free. Hotch shifted for his gun and I lunged forward, trying to get out of his reach. Battle moved faster than any of us anticipated, his arm locking around my neck, hauling me back against his chest. </p>
<p>My hands flew to grab onto Battle’s arm and try to lessen his grip, but in the next moment the barrel of his gun pressed to my temple and he pulled the hammer back. The click sounded through the bullpen as Hotch and Rossi froze, guns aimed at him. </p>
<p>Hotch caught my eye, apology and reassurance burning in his gaze, trying to keep me calm. <i>Breathe, Aria. Breathe. Trust Hotch, trust Rossi. Breathe,</i> I begged myself, eyes squeezing shut as I struggled to take a breath with Battle’s arm crushing against my windpipe. In the back of my head I heard Jude’s voice whispering, <i>it’s okay, A. You’re okay. It’s okay.</i></p>
<p>I let it repeat in my head as Rossi said slowly, “you’re a cop. You know this isn’t gonna end well.”</p>
<p>When I opened my eyes again, I saw Hotch had shifted closer. Battle tugged me tighter to him as Hotch warned, “You’re standing in the middle of the FBI, holding one of our agents hostage –“</p>
<p>“You think I’m afraid of the FBI?” Battle laughed, pressing the gun harder to my head; I bit back the instinctive whimper of alarm. It’d just egg him on. “Please. Look at how easy it was to get right under your noses. I got to your little intern <i>and</i> your analyst. All I had to do was take this annoying little brat out and I would’ve been a free man. I still <i>will</i> be. She can’t rat me out if she isn’t breathing, right?”</p>
<p><i>Don’t react, don’t react,</i> I told myself quickly, trying not to tense up as the terror took hold. <i>He’s devolved, he’s delusional. He wants the fear. Needs to feel the power. This is a blonde, gun-wielding version of Connor. Just hold still, let Hotch play to his ego. It worked when you did it to Connor, and it’ll work with Hotch now,</i> I told myself as I desperately tried not to move, praying they’d be able to get a clear shot on Battle.</p>
<p>“If you pull that trigger, we both know how this will end,” Hotch continued, shifting a hint closer again. “If you kill Aria, you won’t be around for the recognition you want. You won’t get to show the world how you outsmarted the FBI.”</p>
<p>Rossi spoke up now, drawing his attention away from Hotch. They were trying to off-balance his focus. “You’re a decorated officer. This isn’t how you want to be remembered. You’re in control here, you write the ending. It’s your choice. You have the power.”</p>
<p>Battle scoffed and shook his head, slowly starting to back us up towards the door. My eyes widened and I looked to Hotch. Was he seriously gonna leave with me?! He met my eyes and pressed his lips together, doing what he could to promise I’d be okay. </p>
<p>
  <i>Trust Hotch. Trust the team.</i>
</p>
<p>“You call yourselves the best minds in the FBI? You couldn’t even stop me. You can’t even save your intern –“</p>
<p>Hotch’s eyes suddenly snapped past Battle’s shoulder. The arm around my neck tensed and as he turned to look back, a shot rang out. Glass shattered and Battle’s hold went slack around me as he slumped to the ground. </p>
<p>I fell forward onto my knees and before I could even scramble away, arms engulfed my and I was pulled to my feet. Hotch hugged me to his chest and I let out a shaky, relieved breath, melting against him as my arms locked tight around his waist.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to pull back to look me over. I tightened my grip and refused to move. </p>
<p>“I’m fine, I’m – I’m okay. I just – <i>okay</i> – I’m good. Don’t let go, please,” I rushed out; I felt Hotch nod and his arms settled back around me. From behind me, I heard Rossi say, </p>
<p>“He’s down. He’s clear. Good shot, JJ.”</p>
<p><i>I love you so much, JJ. Your timing absolutely couldn’t have been better,</i> I thought to myself as I gave a watery sniff into Hotch’s suit jacket. </p>
<p>“She timed that perfectly,” Hotch said out loud, and <i>now</i> I was scrambling to pull back. He looked down in concern, arms still around me (thankfully so, because I wouldn’t be standing if they weren’t) and he frowned at the look on my face. “What is it?”</p>
<p>“You <i>can</i> read minds,” I deduced, and Hotch actually snorted at me and shook his head. </p>
<p>“Alright. I think the last ten days are really starting to take their toll on your mental clarity.” </p>
<p>Giving him a dubious look, I sank back into his hold and muttered, “I’m onto you, Hotchner.”</p>
<p>He chuckled just loud enough for me to hear as he held onto the hug a little tighter.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Penny I’m – loosen up, I can’t breathe –“ I wheezed; my best friend relaxed <i>just</i> a hint. “I’m fine, really. I’m okay.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you <i>ever</i> make me watch anything like that ever again,” she reprimanded, and I shared a bewildered look with Reid over her shoulder as I laughed incredulously. Like I’d a say in what’d happened! “I mean it!”</p>
<p>As we – well, <i>I</i> – pulled back, I cupped her face gently and assured, “I will never willingly let myself be held at gunpoint again.”</p>
<p>“Good. That’s all I ask, and I really feel like that’s not asking too much,” she began.  As she took a step back, she winced and her hand fell to her stomach. Morgan was at her side in the next moment, arm wrapped around her shoulders as he began to coax her towards a chair. </p>
<p>“Alright mama, take it easy. You pull those staples out early and you’re gonna buy yourself another couple of days in the hospital.” As he passed by, he reached out and gave my arm a soft squeeze. “I’m glad you’re good, sunshine. You should be proud, you handled yourself well.”</p>
<p>I patted his hand as he pulled away and told him softly, “thanks, Cocoa Crisp.”</p>
<p>“Oh, honeybee,” Penelope paused, nearly making Morgan collide with her. He gave her an exasperated frown that she ignored as she said, “Rossi told me to be sure and let you know he apologized to me, but more importantly that I forgave him.”</p>
<p><i>Alright, guess he’s off the hook,</i> I relented as I gave her a wry smile. “Duly noted. Thanks, mama bear.”</p>
<p>“There any reason why Rossi wants to make sure you knew that?” Morgan began. I opened my mouth to answer and he held up a hand. “You know what? I don’t wanna know. I ain’t gettin’ in the middle of whatever you two got goin’ on.”</p>
<p>“Wise choice,” I praised; he chuckled and rolled his eyes and he turned and led Penelope away. </p>
<p>When I turned back, I found myself alone with Reid. Well, the rest of the bullpen was packed, but he and I were off in our own private little bubble. </p>
<p>He didn’t speak at first. Instead, he stepped up closer to me and reached out to brush the curls off my shoulder. His touch was feather-light, his fingers sweeping across my skin as his brow furrowed a hint. Curious, I turned and followed his gaze. The beginnings of a bruise were beginning to blossom, peeking out from under the collar of my sweater. </p>
<p>“Are you really okay?” he asked me, and when I peeked up at him his lips quirked just a hint. “Just between the two of us. I won’t worry Garcia.”</p>
<p><i>Aaaaaand</i> cue the butterflies. </p>
<p>“Physically? I’m good,” I assured, instantly missing the feel of his fingers on my skin as he pulled his hand away. “Emotionally? Honestly, I don’t think it’s hit me just yet. I mean, I haven’t even started fully panicking about Penelope getting shot. My mind’s still trying to process the whole <i>human chili</i> thing...”</p>
<p>Reid pulled a sympathetic grimace and I nodded in agreement. He went to say something, paused, and then cleared his throat. For a moment, Spencer Reid himself seemed at a loss for words. He saw me looking up at him and he fell into his autopilot mode again. </p>
<p>“In the last ten days you’ve experienced a lot of trauma, and to combat what you’ve gone through, your brain released an overload of endorphins to help essentially numb the emotional and physical pain of the trauma. However, now that the trauma is over, endorphin will levels decrease significantly, and this can lead to a withdrawal that sometimes heightens what was being repressed,” he rambled, hands flying a mile a minute as he rushed off the information to me. He paused and blinked down at me as I <i>hmm</i>’d and nodded along. </p>
<p>“So, essentially, I feel fine now but tomorrow I could wake up a mess.” I chuckled, and he gave an apologetic smile and nod. “Well, that sounds about right for the last few weeks I’ve had.”</p>
<p>“I – I just… the point of all that was…” his cheeks flushed and he reached up to nervously scratch the back of his neck, eyes briefly flicking to his shoes before he caught my gaze again. “My offer still stands. Um, if you’re not okay, you can –“</p>
<p>“Hey, Aria!” we both looked over at my name being called and I saw Reid deflate with a sigh as Mr. Lynch came jogging towards us. I gave him an apologetic smile; he wasn’t the only one who’d wanted him to finish that sentence. </p>
<p>“Hey,” I greeted, putting a smile on as he paused beside us, oblivious to the interruption he was causing. “How’re you doing with everything?”</p>
<p>He chuckled and blew out a breath, shaking his head as he glanced to the gurney that was currently wheeling out Battle’s body. “Let me tell you, I’m glad this isn’t my department. I don’t think I could handle this kind of crazy day-to-day.”</p>
<p><i>Trust me, you have no idea</i>, I thought as I nodded in understanding. “I mean, as bad as it sounds, I can assure first-hand that you start to get used to it all.”</p>
<p>“That’s both comforting and disconcerting,” he chuckled, and then stuck out his hand to me. “Kevin Lynch. We made a pretty good team with all that.”</p>
<p>“Aria DiMaggio,” I told him, taking his hand in a quick shake. “We did. That was great thinking, streaming the security cameras to Penelope and the rest of the team. I don’t know what we’d have done if you hadn’t managed to tip them off.”</p>
<p>Kevin nodded, but it was clear he’d stopped listening about halfway through. “You said Penelope… is that who set up that amazing GUI?”</p>
<p>Immediately I caught the smitten tone of his voice and a slow smile spread over my face. I nodded and turned to point after my best friend. “Yep. That’d be our brilliant, beautiful tech analyst, Penelope Garcia.”</p>
<p>“Penelope,” he <i>hmm</i>’d, not even looking back at me as he skirted past Reid and I to go and talk to her. The grin on my face was so wide it hurt. Alright, alright. I totally got why she liked teasing me with Reid. This <i>was</i> a lot of fun.</p>
<p>And this time, I was much more confident the man interested in her <i>wasn’t</i> a psychopathic murderer. <i>Definitely keeping an eye on you for now, Kevin</i>, I thought to myself as I turned back to Reid. </p>
<p>He had just started to speak again when Hotch called his name from across the bullpen. He huffed and actually sent a brief scowl in his direction before looking back down at me. “I’m sorry. I – look, what I was trying to – I just…”</p>
<p>My hand settled on his arm and I gave a squeeze; he stammered into silence and gave a small smile at the touch. “If my endorphins abandon me and leave me hanging, I’ll give you a call, Doctor.”</p>
<p>His face turned about seven different shades of red and his smile widened as he gave a quick nod. My own cheeks flushed and we stood in silence for several long moments. I didn’t pull my hand back and he made no move to listen to Hotch, which didn’t go unnoticed by our Unit Chief.</p>
<p>“Reid –“</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, I’m coming,” he bit out; I could <i>feel</i> Hotch’s frown simmering from here. Just like the other night, I stifled a snort and he gave me another playful glare. “I probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, please do. I’d love to see what happens if you ignore him a third time,” I said with a cheeky smile as I finally let my hand slide off his arm. He laughed and gave a smile in return as he reluctantly trudged across the bullpen. </p>
<p>My plans had been to go make the strongest pot of coffee the 6th floor had ever seen – seeing as I still had my drive back to school tonight – but when I caught sight of JJ all of that instantly changed. </p>
<p>She was leaning against the table of the breakroom, eyes fixed on the wall, chin in her hand. I could see the weight of the shot she’d taken resting on her shoulders. She wasn’t an agent, and though she was weapons-certified, I was fully positive she’d never had to take someone’s life before. Regardless of the situation, it was a choice I knew would hang over her and I didn’t want her trying to lift that burden alone. </p>
<p>“Hey, Jayje,” I smiled as I came up to her. She turned and, as soon as our eyes met, her face melted into a sweet smile. Even through all that’d just happened, she was instantly offering comfort to me.</p>
<p>“Hey. Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“Thanks to you I am,” I assured, catching the brief flicker of angst that sparked over her face. I reached out and took her hand in mine, giving a gentle squeeze. “JJ, I’m so sorry you had to do that. I know how hard that was. I really wish it hadn’t come to that.”</p>
<p>“You know, I never even blinked. I saw you in danger and my first instinct was protecting you, protecting the others in here that he could’ve turned on,” she said softly. “You don’t need to apologize. I’d do whatever it takes to protect my family.”</p>
<p>Family. </p>
<p>Again, nothing summed up better than what I’d grown into with this team. Hotch was right, everything was starting to get to me. I really wasn’t that emotional, but her words were enough to get tears in my eyes. I stepped forward and hugged her tight to me and she returned the favor. We stayed like that for several long moments, both letting ourselves unwind just a little more now that it was all over. </p>
<p>As we pulled back, I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. JJ and I both turned to watch as Kevin and Penelope reached out to one another, slowly shaking their hands as they made heart-eyes at one another. Their giggles were loud enough to carry over to us; JJ and I wiggled our brows at each another.</p>
<p>“Well if that’s not kismet, I don’t know what is,” she chuckled, beaming at our friend who was – almost literally as she lost her balance – falling head over heels for the handsome tech analyst that had captured her heart. Thankfully, Kevin had quick reflexes and was able to steady her as she swayed on her feet, getting her back into her chair delicately. </p>
<p>The sight of my best friend being taken care of (and blushing deep enough to put her bright red shawl to shame) added another couple of layers of endorphins to my soul, helping to keep the heaviness of the job at bay a little longer. </p>
<p>“You know, Penny said she believes everything happens for a reason,” I told JJ, smile playing over my lips as I started to back towards the coffee maker. “I’m starting to think she might be onto something.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Thanks to the construction on the highway – seriously, why did they have to work at 9pm on a Sunday?! – my half hour commute took almost ninety minutes. By the time I parked on campus, I was so tired my vision was actually blurring. </p>
<p>For a moment I slumped back in my seat, rubbing my aching eyes and fighting off another yawn. Maybe I’d just nap in the car for a bit and drag myself to my dorm later… <i>you know damn well you’ll just sleep the whole night out here if you doze off now. If you thought the couch at the hospital was bad, the car’s really gonna mess you up,</i> I chastised myself. </p>
<p>Groaning and admitting defeat to my own logic, I grabbed my purse and wearily pulled myself out of the car, slinging my go-bag over my shoulder. With a last yawn and a few blinks to clear my eyes (or, at least attempt to), I started off across the parking lot. </p>
<p>The only class in the morning was General Physics, and honestly it’d just be a benefit to my grade if I <i>didn’t</i> try to do the lab with as exhausted as I was. What other classes did I have tomorrow? I’d snuck in some work through the week while I’d been hanging out in Penelope’s hospital room, so maybe I’d bought myself a little leeway to sleep in. </p>
<p>
  <i>I’ll make up the lab next week and just do some extra credit work to stay ahead. I can sleep in, and then go to Abnormal Psychology after lunch…</i>
</p>
<p>I walked right past him for the first time in three years and I didn’t even notice. </p>
<p>Sure, I’d seen the tall, dark-haired man out of the corner of my (still very blurry) eye, but I didn’t pay him any attention at first. In fact, I would’ve kept going – completely oblivious – until I felt someone watching me. The eyes burning into me were frighteningly familiar; the hair on the back of my neck prickled and goosebumps shivered across my skin. </p>
<p>I knew this feeling.</p>
<p>I knew those eyes. </p>
<p>From the moment I got that first text months ago, the thought of ever seeing Connor again had filled me with cold, sickening dread that left me near-paralyzed with fear. Now as I turned to face him, the only thing I felt was anger. </p>
<p>Maybe it was nearly losing my best friend. Maybe it was being held at gun point. Maybe it was just because I was so damn tired, but I was so fed up with everything else that had been going on that I just didn’t have it in me to deal with <i>Connor fucking Aldridge</i> today. I just didn’t. </p>
<p>He was leaning back against a car that probably cost more than my college tuition, arms crossed casually over his chest, trademark half-smirk curling up the corner of his mouth as he looked me over. </p>
<p>There was no fear, or anxiety, or even any lingering sadness in seeing him again. All I felt was resentful irritation and the near-overwhelming urge to punch <i>him</i> in the face. Again, I was pretty sure Hotch would support me on it. </p>
<p>I wanted to speak – well, I wanted to <i>scream</i> – but I couldn’t gather the words. I was so caught off guard at him being here that my mind was still buffering itself, trying to catch up to what was happening. </p>
<p>“Hey sugar,” he said after several beats of silence. “Long time no see –“</p>
<p>“What the <i>hell</i> are you doing here?” His voice had instantly slammed me back into the here-and-now and my words cut into his, the venom in my voice catching me off-guard. Connor blew out a chuckle as he casually shrugged his shoulders, studying me for a second before saying simply,</p>
<p>“You weren’t answering my calls. Figured I’d swing by and check on you since I’m in town.”</p>
<p>“In town? You’re just <i>in town</i> and you want to <i>check on me</i>,” I echoed harshly. When he unfolded his arms to motion around himself to say ‘<i>what does it look like</i>’ I shook my head and growled, “no. Get the hell out of here. You have no right to talk to me, let alone just show up at my school. I told you <i>multiple</i> times to leave me alone and now you’re stalking me –“</p>
<p>“<i>Stalking you</i>?!” he laughed incredulously, pushing off the car and taking a step towards me; I took three back, pointing a finger at him in warning. I was <i>really</i> regretting putting my gun in my go-bag. He paused and snorted in amusement at me as he held up his hands in mock-surrender. “Clearly you’re still as dramatic as you’ve always been. I’m <i>not</i> stalking you –“</p>
<p>“How did you know I’d be here?” I interrupted; for a heartbeat, irritation flickered in his dark gaze. He’d always hated it when I spoke over him. <i>Good</i>. He pushed it away almost instantly as he gave me disparaging scowl.</p>
<p>“It really wasn’t that big of a mystery, Aria. Your dad said you were in Virginia, he mentioned something about you volunteering for the FBI or whatever, and I know how to use Google. Mystery solved.” </p>
<p>The tone of his voice was slowly shifting, taking on the patronizing pitch that struck dozens of raw nerves. It was him gaslighting me like he always used to do. Making me doubt myself and question what I knew was right, making me feel crazy for seeing what he was truly doing. </p>
<p>“Don’t start that,” I said lowly, instantly blocking out the doubt that had begun to grow in the back of my mind. It <i>wasn’t</i> crazy to say he was stalking me, and I wasn’t letting him get in my head. “How did you know I’d be <i>here</i> at this school? Or that this is where I always park?”</p>
<p>Connor rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, like I’d just said something so ridiculous he had to take a moment to ‘compose himself’. When he finally looked back at me, his expression threw me off my angry tirade. </p>
<p>“Look, Aria, I was worried about you, alright?” he leveled with me, putting his hands down to jam them in his pockets. “I mean, you disappeared to Oregon right after high school, then your dad tells me you were acting weird when you were there a few months ago… I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”</p>
<p>I saw the soft blink, I heard the fluff in his voice. I knew he was playing to my sympathy, to the stupid slivers of me that still had feelings for him after all the bullshit he’d put me through. And hell, maybe it would’ve worked if I wasn’t just so absolutely fed up with his bullshit. </p>
<p>“Seattle,” I said simply. Connor frowned, clearly not having expected that answer, and he blinked in slow confusion at me. “I went to Seattle. To study Psychology, like I’d been wanting to do all through high school. Like I told you about dozens of times. It’s good to know you never really listened.”</p>
<p>There it was; the first crack in the mask. His jaw ticked a hint tighter and a vein in his forehead squiggled to the surface like it always did when he was mad at me. <i>Push him until he shatters. Break him. Let him show his true self.</i></p>
<p>“Seattle, yeah,” he shrugged, trying to make himself relax. “I always get it confused with –“</p>
<p>“And we both know I didn’t just <i>disappear</i>. I left for college and made a point to lose your number,” I pointed out, and again the forehead vein pulsed as I saw the muscles in his neck tensing up. Maybe the less-tired, less-face-punchy Aria would’ve backed down and gone quiet. <i>This</i> Aria was completely done with Connor. “You never answered my question, by the way, and you know what? That tells me all I need to know. I know exactly why you’re here, and it’s stopping. Now. No more calls, or texts, or stalking me to ambush me in the parking lot. This ends now, or I’m getting the police involved.”</p>
<p>The mask didn’t shatter like I’d been expecting. Instead, it melted off his face and revealed a dangerous, playful smirk. He took a step towards me again and though I held out my hand to keep him back he didn’t pay any attention to it. </p>
<p>“I’m stalking you, hm?” he asked, pausing inches from my fingers. When I lifted a brow to silently answer <i>yes</i> – shifting back to put a little more distance between us – he just chuckled and stepped aside, waving his hand at the car. “I’m here for <i>work</i>, Aria. I’m Sales Manager at the dealership now, and I’m delivering a customer’s purchase.”</p>
<p>“You really expect me to believe that?” I asked him incredulously. “I’m not stupid, Connor. I know –“</p>
<p>“I’m here on business,” he repeated, and then narrowed his eyes at me as his smirk widened. “And I’ve got all the paperwork I need to prove that if anyone were to come asking about it.”</p>
<p>Anxiety fluttered in my stomach but I pushed it aside. He was trying to intimidate me, get me to give in and back down. <i>Don’t let him in your head</i>. </p>
<p>“Fine, that might explain <i>this</i>, even though we both know it’s a bold-faced lie,” I scoffed, and Conner just shrugged his shoulders, still smirking. “That still doesn’t excuse the harassment from the last few months.”</p>
<p>Connor let his smile curl his lips up as he asked me – thoroughly amused –, “harassment? We’ve hardly talked since graduation, Aria. I mean, you blocked <i>my</i> number the <i>one</i> night I tried to text you. How could I have been <i>harassing</i> you?”</p>
<p>I realized exactly what he was doing, and frustration ignited alongside my anger. As much as I hated to admit it, Connor was annoyingly clever. <i>Especially</i> when it came to deceiving people.  He knew it, too, and he knew that in the past, if he could intimidate me enough or confuse me enough, I’d lose the ground I had and I couldn’t fight back. </p>
<p>I wasn’t the same girl anymore; he wasn’t doing that to me again.  </p>
<p>“You’ve been calling and texting me multiple times a week –“ I began, and he took a step closer to me</p>
<p>“Well it’s not <i>my</i> number, is it?” he challenged, tilting his head and blinking innocently at me. “It’s incredibly rude of you to accuse me of something you can’t prove, especially when I’m just here to make sure you’re alright. And it’s a good thing I’m here if you think you’re being stalked. Clearly you’re a little too paranoid. Here I am, just looking out for you, and you’re making up lies.”</p>
<p>Asshole. I shook my head and insisted, “I can prove it –“</p>
<p>“Can you?” he hummed, smile widening just a hint. “Because, last I checked, I still have my same old number, and I can guarantee that no other phone could be traced to me. I mean, are you even sure it’s <i>me</i> harassing you?”</p>
<p>I let out a humorless laugh. “Of course it –“ </p>
<p>“<i>Can</i> you prove it? Really?” he pressed again, still smiling, stepping past my hand and coming so close to me I could smell his cologne. I shoved back the memories it instantly brought up and focused on holding my ground. <i>Don’t back down. Don’t back down.</i> “I mean, would any of your empty accusations <i>really</i> hold up in court?”</p>
<p>He was trying to scare me. Trying to intimidate me into backing down; he’d only do that if he knew I had a point. Despite his words, he <i>knew</i> there was a chance I could get him for stalking, and though he looked smug, he didn’t make any moves to keep talking.</p>
<p>I spoke for him. “You keep bothering me and I promise you I’ll make sure it does. And this time, your buddy Sheriff Taylor won’t be there to bail you out.”</p>
<p>Connor stepped unnervingly closer to me, so much so our chests nearly brushed and I had to tip my head almost all the way back to meet his eyes. He towered over me with a smile that was borderline malicious, eyes flicking between my own, searching for any sign of me wilting and backing down. </p>
<p>
  <i>Not today, Skeevy JerkFace.</i>
</p>
<p>“Sheriff Taylor… right. Because you think I’m the big, bad, abusive boyfriend, is that it?” when I pointedly didn’t answer his rhetorical question he laughed, “sorry, sugar. It’s just so hard to keep track of all your delusions.”</p>
<p>His hand came up, moving to brush my curls back behind my ear, and now I <i>did</i> step back. When his hand followed I shoved it down, and then held my hand out at him when he moved to do it again. “You put a finger on me and I swear to god I’ll break all ten of them, Connor.”</p>
<p>“Like I said, you’re still so dramatic,” he lamented, holding to his charade of innocence, <i>tsk</i>ing as he shook his head (though he <i>did</i> move his hand back a bit). “I can’t believe you’re still on about all that. I mean, I thought you’d be past your little attention-seeking stunts by now.”</p>
<p>“What, you trying to kill me was somehow <i>my</i> way of getting attention?” my voice was quiet but firm, and for a heartbeat I saw his mask slip just a bit more. He replaced it just ask quick to ask condescendingly,</p>
<p>“You still really think that’s what happened that night?”</p>
<p>The doubt surfaced in my mind before I could lock it away and I fought to keep my bearings. Gaslighting was dangerous, especially with Connor. Getting me to doubt myself – no matter how sure of the truth I was – was a specialty of his. There was no surprise the dealership had promoted him to manager now; he really was an excellent salesman. He could pass off any lie he wanted to, get someone to buy into whatever bullshit he was selling with ease. </p>
<p>He’d turned my own family on me, despite the hand-shaped bruises around my neck, despite the marks from my nails on his arm where I’d fought to break his hold. Even with the evidence, no one had believed me because Connor had said it wasn’t true. </p>
<p>My eyes flicked down to the hand he reached out to me again. This time, I caught hold of his wrist and turned his arm over. My thumb brushed along the thin, white marks against his tan skin; against the scars I’d left on him that night. </p>
<p>Proof that I could trust myself because I wasn’t crazy. </p>
<p>I let out a cold chuckle and withdrew my hand, stepping back and putting a couple dozen feet between us before I promised quietly, “we’re not playing this game anymore. I’m done. I <i>know</i> that’s what happened. Like I said, stay away from me and leave me the hell alone. The next time you pop up, I <i>will</i> involve the police. You’ve been warned.”</p>
<p>He opened his mouth to say something else, and for the first time in my life, I ignored him completely and turned away. Connor actually made a noise of surprise from behind me, and I heard him starting to follow. </p>
<p>“Aria – <i>hey</i>, I’m not done –“</p>
<p>“I am. Don’t follow me or I’ll break more than just your fingers,” I snapped, not even giving him a look over my shoulder. His footsteps stopped, and despite everything welling up inside me, I couldn’t help but smile. </p>
<p>I didn’t stop walking until I badged into my dorm building. The moment the door shut behind me I slumped back against it, all of the adrenaline and anger fizzling out now that I was out of harm’s way. </p>
<p>Where the <i>hell</i> had all that come from? What corner of myself had I magically pulled out that fearless, give-no-shit bravado I’d just put on? As I slowly righted myself – not wanting to collapse in the hall – I began the climb to the third floor, replaying all I’d said to Connor. </p>
<p>That had been remnants of the old Aria. Back before we’d started dating, when we were just friends and I hadn’t taken any of his shit. The moment we were in a relationship, though, things had shifted between us, and I’d never acted like that to him again. </p>
<p>I’d never stood up for myself against him, and the realization that I could – hell, that I just <i>did</i> – both elated and terrified me. Had I seriously just done all that?! It took me a few tries to get my room door open; my hands had started shaking and now I couldn’t stop them. Once in the sanctity of my room, I took a slow, deep breath and then let it out as I counted to ten. </p>
<p>I was more exhausted than I was just twenty minutes ago, and so worn through emotionally I couldn’t even process what had just happened. There were so many things racing through my head that I couldn’t focus on a single one, all of them just blurring together and humming like TV static in my mind. </p>
<p>Bed. I needed bed. I needed to sleep on something that wasn’t in a hospital and turn my brain off for longer than ninety restless minutes at a time. But first, I needed a shower. I gathered my pajamas and shower caddy, and forced myself to trudge down the hall to the bathroom. As tired as I was, there was no way I’d be crawling into bed like this. When I walked into the bathroom and sat my things on the counter, though, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.  </p>
<p>The fatigue was written all over me, impossible to miss. My eyes had dark circles beneath them and they were glassy – probably partially glazed over from the overwhelming amount of emotions surging through me. My sweater and skirt were wrinkled (and speckled with blood from JJ’s shot on Battle, but I tried to ignore that) and my haphazard bun was more of a rat’s nest with a couple of frizzy curls sticking out every which way. </p>
<p>What I didn’t see in my reflection, though, was the panic that Connor used to instill in me. There was no fear in my eyes this time, no tears on my cheeks. There wasn’t overwhelming anxiety resting on my shoulders, no doubt or self-loathing hanging off me and pulling me down. </p>
<p>There wasn’t the ruin of a scared, little girl that Connor had left behind. Tonight, the old Aria – self-confident, outspoken, and fearless – was peeking out at me through the cracks of his destruction, proud of what I’d done. For the first time in countless years, I could finally see myself standing up again. </p>
<p>Finally, I was seeing the girl I used to be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday everyone! I hope you guys had a great week!</p>
<p>Man, this was a long one! I've been dying to get this chapter out, especially with all of you and your eagerness for things to happen with Connor, so I'm SUPER EXCITED to see what you think about this! What did you think of her up against Battle? Your thoughts on her face-off with Connor? Please let me know, I can't wait to read your reactions!</p>
<p>Next update will be a filler chapter and it might be a bit shorter than the last few. My best friend is getting married Saturday and my sister and I are in the wedding so she's flying in and life is gonna be hectic. I swear I'll still update for you guys, though! </p>
<p>Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always thank you guys SO MUCH for supporting me! You and your kind words seriously get me through the week and I love each and every one of you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Scruffy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nervously, I pulled my phone out and checked the time again. Just past 10am. Again I looked around and worried that maybe Reid had second-guessed agreeing to help me study. I mean, once again it was one of the few days off that we’d been given, and instead of relaxing, he was taking the subway up to my school’s campus to help me figure out my psychology paper. </p><p><i>That’s it. I’m just gonna call him and tell him he’s off the hook. He doesn’t need to waste his day up here with me,</i> I finally decided, dialing Reid’s number. Just as I went to hit call, I heard footsteps behind me and a timid voice say, </p><p>“Hi. I’m sorry I’m late, the subway was a little delayed today.”</p><p>Admittedly turning faster than I probably should have, I couldn’t help grinning up at Reid as he shuffled up to me. He had his usual messenger bag slung across him and his long hair was a little scruffy and haphazard, but it wasn’t a lie to say the man looked <i>really</i> good today. </p><p>He had on tan slacks that fit him a little better than they normally did, and a pale lavender shirt tucked neatly into them. His tie was a few shades darker than the shirt, and buttoned over the rest was a black sleeveless sweater vest. </p><p>I hadn’t noticed I was staring until Reid cleared his throat and prompted, “Aria?”</p><p><i>Smooth, DiMaggio.</i> “Oh, hi. You’re really fine – I mean, <i>it’s</i> fine,” I rushed out, giving him a quick, nervous smile as I tucked my curls behind my ear. Reid gave me a shy smile and nodded in understanding as I waved a hand towards the library. “Thank you so much. Are you sure you don't mind spending your day off going over vectors?”</p><p>“Not at all,” he assured, shaking his head and instantly falling into step beside me as we headed for the building. “In fact, I found a few books I had lying around that should help walk you through the basics.”</p><p>As he patted his messenger bag faithfully, I looked up at him in surprise. “You have <i>multiple</i> books on vector algebra?”</p><p>“I, uh, I do,” he said quickly, ducking his head. “I guess now it pays for me to be a nerd.”</p><p>“I don’t think you’re a nerd,” I promised him as we climbed the steps. He quirked a brow at me and I giggled. “Okay. You are, but it’s in the best way.”</p><p>“I’ll take your word for it,” Reid smiled as he ducked his head, a flush of pink on his cheeks. To my surprise he moved ahead of me and grabbed the door, pulling it open and stepping back to allow me inside. I nearly let out another giddy giggle as I smiled to myself and slipped past him. </p><p>“Thank you,” I said when he reached my side again. We both fell quiet as I led us through the library, commandeering a table by the window for us to spread out on. We settled across from one another, and as I tugged out my homework, Reid took out five different books and stacked them at his side.</p><p>When he saw me gaping at the pile he cleared his throat. “Vector algebra is something I find quite fascinating. Do you understand what you’re going over in class?”</p><p>“Um, honestly? Not really,” I sighed, propping an elbow on the table and slumping down, chin dropping into my hand. “I mean, I did when the class first started, but now we’re on like <i>head to tail</i> sequences and like, figuring out how to turn a vector into a unit…”</p><p>Reid lit up as he listened to my confused jumble of words. Seeing his reaction, I grabbed my textbook and flipped to my assignment, sliding it to him. He skimmed the page in a handful of seconds and instantly grabbed one of his own books. </p><p>“Let’s go over what a vector is. Now, you know what a scalar is, right?”</p><p>Excited that I actually knew that, I nodded quickly and said, “it’s a quantity that only has a magnitude, not a direction, right?”</p><p>“Precisely,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. It sent a tingle of warmth through me that had me eager to earn his praise again. “Now, branching off that, a vector is just a mathematical object that has both magnitude <i>and</i> direction. The <i>head to tail</i> sequence is just the method of adding the two vectors. So, if we look at the first problem, it has vector A here…”</p><p>Reid was instantly lost to his teachings, one hand flying a mile a minute over both my textbook and his own, the other scribbling out the graph as he planted the two arrows for me. He worked me through the first problem in under five minutes – easily beating out my previous record of an hour – and then turned the textbook to me. </p><p>“Alright. The second question is nearly the same, it’s just got a slight change in the arrow placement. Map them for me.”</p><p>He held out the pencil for me and I looked between it and him. I blinked and asked meekly, “could – could you show me again? I’m probably just gonna mess this up –“</p><p>“You probably will,” he assured, and at the look of surprise – and a hint of offense – he explained, “but that’s the best way to learn. Do it how you think it needs to be done, and I can correct you if you don’t get it right.”</p><p>Slowly, I took the pencil and then looked down at the graph. Hand pathetically close to shaking, I drew out the arrows. I was nervous, okay? Reid was the best possible tutor I could have for this stupid assignment, but having him teach me was a little daunting. He was so incredibly smart and I was over here struggling my third week into class. </p><p>I knew it was super far-fetched to hope he’d ever be interested in someone like <i>me</i>, but I liked to live in my daydreams sometimes and showing him how stupid I was kind of crushed the hope for me. </p><p>Once I had them plotted, Reid tapped the lines. “That’s good. Now, draw the third line to connect the points, and then write out the equation.”</p><p>I did as he instructed and slowly mapped out what I needed, and then wrote out what I thought was right. Reid leaned over a little closer and asked, “can I borrow the pencil?”</p><p>I handed it over, cheeks burning when I realized I’d gotten it wrong. He underlined the parts of the equation I’d messed up and I sighed. “I’m sorry. You explained it really well I just –“</p><p>“You don’t need to apologize. This is complicated. And you’re actually really close. We just need to adjust the brackets a bit. Remember, here, the <i>P</i> and <i>Q</i> are our vectors, and <i>a</i> is our scalar. So, with that in mind –“</p><p>“<i>Oh</i>!” I realized, taking the pencil back instantly and leaning a little more over the table. “The brackets would be <i>here</i>, then. So then I’d just add these two numbers and…” I scribbled down a number and tapped the paper. “This would be the answer.”</p><p>“That’s it!” he agreed eagerly. “You’ve got it!”</p><p>With a laugh of relief, I looked up to thank him and paused, realizing for the first time just how close we were. We were both leaning over the table, noses nearly brushing as we both looked up at one another. </p><p>Though we both realized just how close we were, neither of us said anything. Neither of us moved. For a moment, I was lost to the soft, swirling caramel of his eyes and I couldn’t look away, couldn’t move away. </p><p>Finally, after nearly thirty seconds of silent staring, we both snapped out of it and settled back in our seats quickly. “You made that super easy. I think you need to take over for my professor.”</p><p>“That wasn’t all me,” he deflected with a shake of his head, shyly tucking his hair behind his ear. “You picked it up really quickly. You’re a good student.”</p><p>As I tried to keep the goofy smile off my face, Reid tugged my textbook back over to him and flipped the page. I reached out and tapped the next problem. “I’m hoping you’re as good with this next part as you were just now.”</p><p>“Base vectors? I am,” he assured, grabbing yet another book. “Now, essentially, they’re just a set of vectors selected as a base to represent all the other vectors. Hence the name. The idea is to construct each vector from the addition of vectors along the base directions. For example…”</p><p>For nearly two hours, Reid and I were lost to the depth of my physics book. He worked slowly and patiently with me as the problems got harder, not seeming to mind when he had to explain the same thing four different times. </p><p>On the last problem, it’d gotten so confusing we’d both ended up on the same side of the table, hunched over my notebook, surrounded by four different books and a pile of crumpled up paper. Again, Reid scrawled out the problem for me and prompted once more, </p><p>“Remember. The value of the triple product is equal to the volume of the parallelepiped constructed from the vectors.”</p><p>“Right, yeah,” I muttered, erasing what I’d just wrote and instead scrawling out another attempt at the right equation. “Like this right?”</p><p>“Yes. Now, on the graph, draw out that last section and then we can get the last number we need.”</p><p>With a sigh, my pencil hovered over the graph and I shook my head. “I don’t remember where to start. Am I starting with the <i>sin</i> or with the <i>cos</i>?”</p><p>“You’ll start here,” he explained, and his own hand wrapped over my own. “Then, you’ll take it back down <i>here</i>…” </p><p>This was doing absolutely nothing to help with the jumble my mind was in. The feeling of his long, slim fingers covering my own instantly wiped out any of the minimal knowledge I’d been struggling to hold onto for this equation. Slowly, he moved my hand to the left of the page, and instead of letting go, he moved with me to draw the line. </p><p>I tried to focus on what he was saying. I really, really did. But now he had moved so close to me his chest was pressed to my arm, and his free hand had come to wrap over the back of my chair so he could help maneuver the pencil. All I could think about was the feeling of Reid against me and the soft, intoxicating smell of clean laundry and fresh coffee. </p><p>It was almost pathetic how bad I had it for the handsome doctor at my side, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop me from falling even further for him. I was totally, completely lost to Spencer Reid. </p><p>--</p><p>
  <b>
    <span class="u">Spencer</span>
  </b>
</p><p>For the first time ever, he couldn’t instantly calculate the equation in front of him. The numbers were there, the formula was precise, but all he could think about was how soft Aria’s skin was, how good her hair smelled, how she seemed to lean back into him as he moved even <i>closer</i>…</p><p>“Is this right?”</p><p>Her voice pulled him from his distracted thoughts until he made the mistake of looking down at her again. Her head was tipped back, just inches from resting against his shoulder, her soft hazel eyes blinking up at him and scattering the few thoughts he’d managed to gather. </p><p>Until he’d met Aria, physical appearance hadn’t been something he’d ever really paid attention to. Sure, Lila Archer had been attractive, but it hadn’t been enough to linger with him for months on end. With Aria… Aria was different. Not that it was a surprise, she was so different for him with so many things, but he truly couldn’t fathom how enamored he was with her beauty. </p><p>Morgan had always talked about being drawn to specific characteristics in a person; about having a <i>type</i>. He hadn’t fully understood what that’d meant, especially when Morgan really only seemed to consider a woman’s physical attributes over everything else. He’d asked Spencer a couple of times, and his answer had been simple. </p><p>
  <i>Intelligence, an eagerness to learn, enjoyment of reading, benevolence, honesty.</i>
</p><p>It was always the answer he gave and Morgan had never been pleased with it. He’d always ask, <i>what about looks, pretty boy? There’s gotta be somethin’ you like in a lady.</i></p><p>Appearance wasn’t important to him. As many times as Morgan insisted that couldn’t be true, Reid had been completely truthful. It didn’t matter to him what someone looked like, and it still didn’t overall. He hadn’t been attracted to Aria because of how she looked. It was the kindness in her eyes and the warmth of the smile she’d given him the first day they’d met. It was her quiet brilliance that she downplayed, the unending curiosity to have him teach her trivial things, the honesty in her voice when she assured him she loved having him talk about the tree population in Virginia…</p><p>Now, though, he had developed a preference. A <i>type</i>. A set of things that he liked in a woman that made her even more attractive on top of her mind and personality. </p><p>Soft, chocolate curls that fell in imperfect spirals around a soft, sweet face. Gentle, curious hazel eyes that held a glint of emerald and gold in the sunlight, that blinked up at him patiently and set his heart racing all over again. Small, delicate hands that fit perfectly in his, that flitted over graphs faster and faster the more confidence they gained. </p><p>The soft, full pink lips that stretched into genuine warm smiles every time he lost his train of thought and could do nothing but stare nervously, willing his 187 IQ to catch up to his racing heart. </p><p>“I’m sorry. What was that?” he asked sheepishly; the giggle that Aria gave him set sparks of happiness fluttering through his chest. She finally pulled her hand out of his grasp and tapped the paper beneath them. </p><p>“Is this right?”</p><p>Spencer spared a moment to look away from her to study the equation. Pride swelled in his chest as he gave her a swift nod. As much as she’d struggled the last hour, she’d managed to finally understand the equation. </p><p>“You’ve got it. See? I told you you’d get it.”</p><p>“It took me like six hours,” she huffed, slumping back in the seat, back against the arm he had over the top of her chair. He knew she must’ve felt it against her but she didn’t move to pull away. </p><p>“Vectors are complicated. Honestly, it’s very impressive you were able to pick it up as quickly as you did,” he assured, trying not to sound as excited as he was. To say that her intelligence was one of his favorite things about her was a severe understatement. When he thought she couldn’t be any more brilliant than she already was, Aria always found a way to surprise him. </p><p>“You’re too nice to me,” she deflected again, still not making an effort to move away even though they’d finished the last problem. Instead, she shifted to face him a little more. When he started to shake his head she insisted, “really, you are. You spent your day off drilling equations into my head and putting up with my inability to grasp math.”</p><p>“I really don’t mind. I’m having fun,” he assured, getting a quirked smile from her as she shifted closer. So close, in fact, that she was now tucked under his arm. Against his side. So close their legs were pressed together and if he’d tilted his head down a couple inches, he could kiss her. </p><p>He wanted to kiss her. </p><p>It was the first time since Lila that Spencer had felt that way about anyone. Really, he hadn’t even felt as strongly about it with her as he did now with Aria. He really disliked physical affection. Hugging, holding hands, <i>kissing</i>… they’d never really interested him. Quite the opposite, actually. So the fact that he hadn't want her to pull her hand from his, that he’d been looking forward to the next hug he could share with her, the fact he wanted to close the distance between them and actually kiss her right now... it’s how he knew what he felt for her went deeper than just a fleeting crush. </p><p>Maybe she felt it too. She <i>had</i> to feel it too. Because as he stared down at Aria and she stared up at him, he swore her eyes flicked to his lips. He swore she turned a little more, leaned a <i>little</i> closer, and still she hadn’t made any move to lean away from the arm practically wrapped around her shoulders</p><p>Spencer leaned forward. His heart was in his throat, pounding so hard he couldn’t breathe, could barely swallow, could hardly focus. Aria tipped her head back a bit, the ghost of a smile still playing over the lips he kept glancing at. </p><p>Aria’s phone began buzzing wildly and the two of them jolted back from one another so fast they both almost fell out of their chairs. Spencer caught her arm before he caught himself, barely keeping them seated. Aria smacked a button on her phone and shoved it away, letting out a shaky breath. </p><p>“School alarm,” she murmured, a hand fluttering to her chest as she tried to calm herself. “I’ve got class soon.”</p><p>“Right. Class,” he confirmed, giving a sharp nod as he tried to calm himself as well. The two of them looked over to one another, and after holding their startled stares for another moment, they dissolved into giggles. She leaned into his hold again as she tried to quiet herself, and the harder she laughed, the harder Spencer laughed. </p><p>“We’re in a library,” she hissed to him, voice barely quiet enough to be considered a whisper. “You can’t be this loud!”</p><p>“Me?” he laughed, voice even louder than hers. “You’re the one being loud!”</p><p>“What?” she gasped, grin wide on her face and tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “I’m so not –“</p><p>“<i>SHH</i>!” </p><p>The order from behind them made them both jump again and whirl to stare up at the librarian as she shuffled past them, sending a scowl over her shoulder before she disappeared into the shelves. Spencer knew better than to look back at Aria, but he just couldn’t help it. </p><p>The moment their eyes locked they started giggling again. In a rush, the two of them hurriedly shoved their books away, scooped up her notebook, and scrambled out of the chairs. The librarian poked her head back around the corner and without warning, Aria’s fingers slid between his own. She held his hand tight as she scampered across the library, pulling him behind her. </p><p>As they burst outside onto the steps, their giggles turned into full-blown laughter. They rushed down to the sidewalk and stepped into the shade of a nearby tree. He made no effort to take his hand back, and she didn’t seem to have any intention of letting go. </p><p>“I’ve never been <i>shush</i>’d in a library before, you know,” he informed her, getting a devilish look that took over her stunning features. </p><p>“You could say I’m a bit of a rebel,” she told him, sticking out her tongue to show him the piercing. Normally he didn’t care for any kind of body modification, but he certainly liked the look of it more than he’d expected. Probably, he realized, because it was on her. She checked her phone and sighed. “A rebel that’s gonna be late for class if she doesn’t get going.”</p><p>“Isn’t that the point of a rebel?” he teased, raising a brow. She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Lucky for you, I’m a very good tutor and I won’t allow you to skip out on your education.”</p><p>Although he knew it was coming he was still sad to have her finally pull her hand from his. Before he could even miss the feel of her touch, though, she stepped up onto her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck. He bent down and wrapped his own around her waist, hugging her tight to him. </p><p>His face buried into her curls and he took a deep breath, letting the soft scent of her rose perfume engulf him and warm him in a way only she could do. Without pulling away, she murmured,</p><p>“You’re kind of scruffy, you know.”</p><p>Not having expected that, he gave a laugh and – not letting go either – asked her,</p><p>“Is… is that good? I’m – I’ve never been called that before.”</p><p>She giggled (somehow it was even better having her tucked against him like she was) and regrettably stepped back. Instead of fully pulling away though, she kept one of her arms around his neck to keep him bent down, and the other reached up to tuck his own curls behind his ear as she assured, </p><p>“I think it is.” They both smiled at one another softly as they finally separated. He could hear her phone buzzing again and she sighed, stealing a peek at it before shoving it into her bag. “Alright. This rebel’s gotta get going. Thank you so much for helping me. You’re seriously my hero.”</p><p>The two of them slowly started to back away from one another. Spencer gave her a toothy smile and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m glad I could help. If there’s anything else you need to go over, just let me know. I’m sure I’ll have a few books on whatever you need.”</p><p>Aria giggled and nodded as she turned around. “I’m holding you to that, you know.”</p><p>“I expect nothing less. Have fun in class. I’ll see you tomorrow, Aria.”</p><p>She looked back over her shoulder and, giving a quick wink that sent his heart and mind scattering in every direction, she teased, </p><p>“See you later, Scruffy.”</p><p>Spencer was pretty sure he’d never smiled that wide before in his life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday! For those of you that celebrate it, I hope your Labor Day is going great! For those of you that don't, I hope you're having a good start to your week!</p><p>I've been super busy between the wedding and sight-seeing with my sister and her husband, so I haven't gotten the chance to finish the <i>actual</i> next chapter. Instead, I wanted to give y'all a cute little filler to make up for the chaos that was the last like six chapters. I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know if you thought this was cute, I'd like to do more cute little bits like this if there's interest!</p><p>Next week's chapter will also be a filler, but it'll be back on track with the storyline and I think you're <i>really</i> gonna like that one. In the meantime, I hope this week is excellent to you, and I can't wait to hear from you guys!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/629255379504742400/chapter-25-is-up">Aria's Outfit &amp; Connor</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last few weeks had gone by in a blur. </p>
<p>We’d gotten two cases so back-to-back there was barely time to breathe in between. Hell, we hadn’t even returned from the first one before we were flying to the second. In fact, the team was just getting ready to jump into a <i>third</i>, but unfortunately I wasn’t tagging along. </p>
<p>Hotch seemed to think that finishing my education was more important than catching serial killers (a point we were <i>still</i> arguing over), and since I’d missed my lab the last few Monday’s, he was all but insisting I at least attended classes in person for a couple of days. Part of me was pretty convinced he just wanted me to take a little more time away after the chaos we’d all just been dragged through. He’d been moments away from dragging me to the car and driving me back to school himself, so I’d relented and was now spending the week moping around the University. </p>
<p>Honestly, I wasn’t sure what was more exhausting: flying around the country chasing psychopathic murderers or trying to comprehend rotational dynamics. Currently, <i>General Physics</i> was kicking my ass once again. </p>
<p><i>Why do I even need this stupid class?</i> I groaned to myself, staring uncomprehendingly at the textbook in front of me. My next class of the day, Atmosphere and Weather, made total sense for my Environmental Science minor – the necessary notch in my academic belt for meteorology. Physics, though? <i>Physics</i>? I mean, yes, I got it. Physics and weather did end up hand-in-hand a lot. Was a whole class on it really <i>necessary</i> though?!</p>
<p>Someone nudged my arm and I nearly shot right off my stool. Instantly Nate withdrew his hand and said quickly, “sorry, sorry! I just wanted to see if you’d worked out anything on the question –“</p>
<p>“No, you’re fine,” I assured in a very unconvincing voice, hand fluttering to my chest as I caught my breath. My poor lab partner continued to stare at me with barely-veiled alarm as I quickly turned back to my notes. “Um… Right. Let’s see. <i>Two cylinders of the same mass and shape, one hollow and one solid, are set on an incline and allowed to roll down. Which cylinder will reach the bottom of the incline first, and why</i>?”</p>
<p>As he’d been doing, Nate grabbed our cylinders, held them at the top of the small ramp, and let them go. The solid one reached the bottom first by just a few moments. </p>
<p>“Why’d that happen?” Nate asked me hopefully, pointing to the still-rolling cylinder. I opened my mouth to answer and he said quickly, “Professor Martin already said we can’t just say <i>because it’s heavier</i>.”</p>
<p>Pressing my lips together, I sighed and admitted, “well, that was the best answer I had.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Same. This stuff is like a whole ‘nother language. Who the hell <i>would</i> understand this?!”</p>
<p><i>Dr. Spencer Reid would</i>, I replied silently, surprisingly close to actually voicing my thoughts. For at least the hundredth time today, I wished he was here with me. I mean, just because he would’ve had this lab done in under twenty minutes. <i>Not</i> because I missed him. </p>
<p>Okay. Maybe I missed him.</p>
<p>How dumb was that? It’d been less than twenty-four hours since I’d last seen him, and already I was eager to get back to Quantico so we could continue our language lessons. Realizing that unlike him, I didn’t absorb and permanently remember everything we’d spoken to each other, he’d actually brought in a book in Russian for me to look through. </p>
<p>“<i>Just to help get you familiar with what the words sound like when they’re spoken. It’s what helped me pick it up quickly,</i>” he’d enthused last Wednesday, holding the book out eagerly to me, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. As luck had had it, we’d then shipped off for our non-stop cases, and the two of us had gotten to spend almost all our flight time reading through the Russian version of <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>. He’d insisted it was one of the easier books to read through in Russian. </p>
<p>I was still not convinced of that. </p>
<p>After Nate and I read through the question two more times – and even asked the Professor to help explain what we were trying to do – we were both slumped on the table defeated. Nate was face-down on his notes, mumbling something about quadratic formulas. I honestly didn’t know whether that even applied or not, but at least he was doing <i>something</i> math-ish.</p>
<p>
  <i>To: Reid<br/>I need help. Can I call you really quick?</i>
</p>
<p>Not even a minute later, Spencer “<i>I absolutely hate texting and cell phones</i>” Reid had replied. </p>
<p>
  <i>Yes, of course.</i>
</p>
<p>Butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach at his sweet answer, I hopped up and patted the table. Nate <i>hmm</i>’d, but he didn’t look up. Poor guy. “I’m running to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p>With another grunt from my lab partner, I scuttled out of the classroom, hitting <i>call</i> as soon as I was through the door. Reid answered before the first ring was over. </p>
<p>“Is everything alright?” the concern in his voice caught me off guard, and to say I nearly melted on the spot wasn’t an understatement.</p>
<p>“With me? Yes. With my physics lab, no.” The laugh on the other end of the phone sent warmth tingling through me. I could picture him at his desk – probably hunched over a book or a file – ducking his head as his entire face lit up with his smile. “It’s really hard, okay?! Not all of us are certified geniuses.”</p>
<p>Reid giggled at that and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing <i>at</i> you. Mostly.”</p>
<p>“You better not be,” I warned playfully, and paused when I heard Emily and JJ in the background. I’d totally forgot the team was working! “Oh, crap. I’m sorry! Is this a bad time? Are you guys busy with a case?”</p>
<p>“No, not at all. We’re actually just wrapping up. It was pretty open and shut, and they barely needed us,” he dismissed instantly, and then prompted, “what are you doing in class?” </p>
<p>“Um…” I stalled, only just then realizing I’d left the book in the classroom. “It’s… well, it’s my lab. I don’t know the exact problem but it’s something about two cylinders that –“</p>
<p>“One’s hollow, one’s solid, and you’ve got to explain why one reaches the ground first when rolled down a ramp at the same time?”</p>
<p>“It’s – yes, actually. How did you know that?!”</p>
<p>Reid didn’t laugh, but I could hear the smile in his voice as he said simply, “it’s a common physics question in regards to the law of conservation of energy. I mean, there are plenty of variations of the same problem, but the two cylinders is the one most utilized in college labs as it’s easiest to test out.”</p>
<p>“You’re seriously the most amazing person I know,” I told him before I could realize how mushy that had to sound. The surprised silence on the other end snapped me back to reality and I said quickly, “just, because, I mean – you know what I’m talking about even when <i>I</i> don’t. That’s pretty cool, you know?”</p>
<p>“I… yes, I do. Thank – um, thank you. That’s really kind of you to say,” he stammered. I was <i>so</i> glad he couldn’t see me through the phone. “What have you figured out so far? I don’t want to do your lab for you, you know.”</p>
<p>“Trust me, you’re more than welcome to,” I sighed. As he chuckled in sympathy, I rolled my eyes up and explained, “we know the solid one reaches the bottom first. I just… my textbook doesn’t make any sense with how to explain the difference. I mean, the potential energy for both cylinders is the same at the top of the ramp, because their masses are the same, right?”</p>
<p>“That’s right,” he agreed; just like last week, the flutter in my chest at his praise just <i>did things</i> to me and I was eager to hear it again. </p>
<p>“So then at the end of the movement the potential energy would still be the same, which means the kinetic energy they acquire should be the same too, right?”</p>
<p>I heard Reid shifting on the other end; was he digging for something? It honestly wouldn’t surprise me if he had a book on physics with him. And, sure enough, I heard the <i>shff</i>ing of pages a moment later. “Overall that’s correct. However, remember that kinetic energy of rotation would be different for the cylinders. Where does that get you?”</p>
<p>For a few moments, I was quiet as I let his words sink in. I could <i>feel</i> the gears in my mind whirring to life, but I couldn’t connect the pieces I needed to. Why didn’t it just <i>click</i> for me? I felt so dumb. Even after his tutoring session and weeks in this class I didn’t get most of what I was trying to do. What I wouldn’t give to be as easily brilliant as Reid… </p>
<p>“You know this. I know you do,” he encouraged unexpectedly. His words slammed into my self-doubt and for a moment my mind went blank with surprise. “You’re overthinking it. The answer’s much simpler than it seems. Look at it as if you were profiling a crime scene. What does your first instinct tell you? What naturally comes to mind?”</p>
<p>“Well…” I took a breath and ran his words back through my mind. “I mean, the mass distribution would be close to the surface on the hollow cylinder and more particles are moving with greater speed on a greater radius.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“And… that’d make the angular speed of rotation smaller, meaning the hollow is slower.”</p>
<p>He gave a laugh and told me, “see? You knew it. You figured that out in moments.”</p>
<p>“Wait. It’s – that’s the answer? It’s seriously that simple?!”</p>
<p>Reid hummed in agreement, and there was soft honesty in his voice as he told me, “you were just overthinking it. You have a bad habit of doubting yourself. Even when you know you’re right, you talk yourself out of your answer. You’re incredibly smart, Aria. Have confidence in what you know, because so far your instincts have always been right.”</p>
<p>How I managed not to spontaneously combust, I’ll never know. My cheeks were burning and the grin on my face was so wide it was actually painful. I barely held back the giddy giggle that bubbled up in me, and for a few moments I had nothing to say. Forget being called beautiful or funny or sweet. Forget all the other praises out there. I’d much rather be called smart by Dr. Spencer Reid <i>any</i> day of the week. </p>
<p>“You… wow. That’s honestly the best compliment I’ve ever received,” I finally managed. I could practically hear Penelope sing-songing <i>your crush is showing</i>! She definitely wouldn’t be wrong. “I’m officially petitioning Hotch to give you some time off so you can come teach my class. Or just re-write this stupid textbook.”</p>
<p>Reid laughed as he asked me, “what textbook is your professor using for your lab studies?”</p>
<p>“I’ll have to get the name later. I don’t have it with me. But it’s got a picture of a water droplet on the front –“</p>
<p>“<i>Physics for Scientists and Engineers</i>. I’m familiar,” he scoffed, the distaste in his words nearly tangible. <i>Of course he knows the book I have when I don’t even know.</i> “I’m not surprised this hasn’t been helpful in your comprehension of the subject.”</p>
<p>“Are you disagreeing with my professor’s choice in learning material?” I laughed, grinning more when he heatedly replied, </p>
<p>“I am. It’s certainly not the book I would use to teach introductory physics. It’d be much more beneficial for you to read <i>General Physics: An Elementary Textbook for Colleges</i>. It’s a much more palatable read and breaks down the processes and logic behind the questions in a simple and straightforward way.”</p>
<p>The passion in his voice was equal parts endearing and attractive. Hearing someone get worked up over what physics book was best was definitely not something I thought I’d ever find appealing in anyone, but Spencer Reid was always one to surprise me like that. Hell, I’d never found sweater vests enticing until the genius doctor insisted on wearing them like it was his professional job to look attractive in them. </p>
<p>“Seeing as you just explained this lab to me in under five minutes, I’m taking your word for it,” I assured him as I made my way back towards the classroom. </p>
<p>“I’ve got a copy I can bring you,” he offered instantly, getting my heart to do a somersault and widening my near-permanent grin. He paused, and then lowered his voice a bit to ask, “will – um, we’re going to be back tonight. Are you going to be here tomorrow?”</p>
<p>Did he want me there? Did he miss me as much as I missed him? Maybe I was still over-analyzing last week’s study session. I mean, if my alarm hadn’t gone off, was… would he have kissed me? Because I definitely thought that was a near-kiss. That <i>had</i> to be an almost kiss, right? Which meant he liked me. Which meant maybe he felt as stupidly giddy and smitten with me as I felt for him… which is why I hated to burst his bubble.</p>
<p>“I wish. Hotch wants me at classes for a couple days. He said I can come back Thursday, as long as another case doesn’t start before then, though.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” he sighed, sounding as dejected as I felt. I <i>really</i> hoped I wasn’t the only one crushing between the two of us. I really, really hoped not, and conversations like this made me actually feel like I might have somewhat of a chance with the handsome doctor. “Well, then the book will be waiting for you on your desk. And, um, if you need anything else just give me a call. I promise I won’t be too busy for you.”</p>
<p>He won’t be too busy <i>for me</i>. </p>
<p>“I appreciate you, you know that?” I told him, pausing outside the door. “I gotta get back and go finish this lab. But I’ll talk to you later, alright?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, of course. Have a good rest of your day, Aria. I’ll see you soon.”</p>
<p>“See you, Scruffy,” I teased, hoping the dumb little nickname I’d given him made him smile as much as he made <i>me</i> smile.</p>
<p>Honestly, though, there was no way I could ever beat him at this game. The guy could get me grinning over physics and statistics on the decline of the coal industry since the 1890’s. My crush definitely showed, and I was really hoping one day Reid would see it.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>My fingers drummed impatiently against my thigh as I watched for my food with bated breath. Again, I checked my watch and then looked back to the woman slowly but surely piling my food into the box. The only time service ran slow was when I tried to fit a lunch run between classes. </p>
<p>It really was just my kind of luck. </p>
<p>My phone buzzed again – JJ confirming my appearance at the monthly girl’s night – and I quickly typed back before checking my other conversation. Reid still hadn’t answered, but knowing him, he was passed out on the couch of the jet, a book lying open on his chest. The thought of him dozing got me smiling again and I nearly missed my name being called. </p>
<p>“Order for Aria?” the woman repeated, and I threw my hand up like I was answering role call in class. <i>You’re a dork,</i> I snorted to myself, giving the woman a smile as I approached. Before I could reach the counter, someone else bumped against me just as another worker sat a second bag down and called, </p>
<p>“Order for Connor!”</p>
<p>“That’s me,” the last person I wanted to see announced at my shoulder, reaching out to take his food. My head snapped up and I instantly took a startled step away from him as he met my alarmed stare. “Fancy running into you here, sugar.”</p>
<p>For several long, aching heartbeats, all I did was stare up at him in a mix of fury and panic. Instead of my normal fight-or-flight, I was just stuck like a deer in headlights, gaping up at Connor, desperately trying to figure out my next move. </p>
<p>The Aria that’d been stupid enough to date him wanted to flat-out sprint for the door, not stopping until I made it to my dorm. The old Aria, the one from the parking lot a few weeks ago, was seconds away from grabbing one of the forks out of the utensil holder and jamming it into his neck. </p>
<p>Realizing neither of those options were acceptable, all I managed was a very pathetic, “what – why are you here?!”</p>
<p>Connor raised a bemused brow as he held up the bag of food. “Aren’t you supposed to be super smart and clever to be a behavioral analyst?”</p>
<p>Old Aria kicked into gear and my angry defenses shot up. “How the hell do you know what department I’m in?”</p>
<p>“Please. Your mom is such a gossip –“</p>
<p>“I never told my parents what department I’m in,” I snapped. It wasn’t really a lie – dad had already known my team was the BAU – but if I was right, Connor wouldn’t know that. He could either defend himself and <i>maybe</i> there’d be some credibility to his excuse, or he could backtrack and confirm my theory. </p>
<p>“Well, again, it’s not hard to use Google. I’m not in the FBI but I’m not stupid, Aria.”</p>
<p>“Debatable,” I bit out before I could stop myself. The flicker of anger that lit up behind his eyes was more satisfying than I’d expected. He’d backtracked; he’d lied. He hadn’t found out anything from my parents. He’d been looking me up. Stalking me. “You have thirty seconds to get the hell away from me or I’m calling the police.”</p>
<p>“What, because I’m getting sweet and sour chicken?” he laughed as he pointedly shook his bag again. Shit. He had a point. Instead of answering, I snatched my own off the counter and stalked for the door.</p>
<p>I heard Connor behind me and picked up the pace, nearly running down the sidewalk and making a beeline to my next class. Just as I reached the building and moved to open the door, a hand grabbed my elbow. Fingers dug into my skin tight enough to get a wince from me as I was pulled back nearly three whole steps. </p>
<p><i>I am not helpless. I am not his victim,</i> I told myself the instant I felt the fear begin to take over. I wasn’t scared and unprepared. Morgan had taught me what to do. I knew how to defend myself. </p>
<p><i>Break the hold,</i> I heard him telling me. I spun on my heel and wrenched my arm up and back, ripping my arm out of Connor’s hand. He was so caught off guard all he did was stare at me. In fact, the other kids – and a professor – just stood and watched the interaction. Was no one gonna step in? Hadn’t they seen him grab me? Couldn’t they tell how uncomfortable I was?</p>
<p><i>Don’t worry about them. Worry about yourself. Distance yourself before you can get grabbed again.</i> The bag of food fell to the ground as I surged forward and slammed my hands into his chest. Connor stumbled back and hit the side of the building hard enough to get the breath knocked out of him. </p>
<p>“Don’t <i>ever</i> put your hands on me <i>ever</i> again,” I snarled, bracing myself as he pushed off the wall. He gave me a bewildered look and slowly stepped towards me, reaching out. “Connor I swear –“</p>
<p>“Aria, <i>jesus</i>, can you calm down for half a second?! I’m just trying to give you your receipt!”</p>
<p>He turned his hand over and, sure enough, a receipt unraveled; he shook it pointedly and raised his brows. I didn’t miss the looks from the others still watching the altercation. The professor had skirted past us into the building wordlessly, and the group of girls gathered a few feet away continued down the sidewalk. One of the guys off to the side stepped up to us, but instead of looking at me, he rested a hand on Connor’s shoulder and asked, </p>
<p>“You good, man?” </p>
<p>With hardly doing anything, Connor had made me out to be the crazy one. I’d played right into his stupid game without even realizing it. He’d learned from last time and he’d been prepared for my anger. And this time, he’d managed to use it against me. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright, thanks,” Connor assured with faked, timid smile. The guy nodded, gave me a parting frown, and reluctantly left us alone. </p>
<p><i>That was kind of an overreaction</i>, my obnoxiously-persistent self-doubt nagged. I mean, I was on edge – and rightfully so – but had he really just been trying to give me my receipt? Did it matter? He’d grabbed me with no warning, and given the history with him –</p>
<p><i>So far he’s given you no reason to be this hostile. It was a little over-the-top,</i> I argued back at myself. As I tried to push my own thoughts aside, I saw Connor studying me. He knew exactly what I was doing, and why I was doing it. I wasn’t letting him enjoy me getting into my head because of him. </p>
<p>Silently, without taking the receipt, I stooped and grabbed my food, stalking past him into the building. My autopilot kicked in, and before I knew it I was in my usual seat of the lecture hall, already unpacking my bag. My body had just kicked in and took me where I needed to go. Though I was glad I’d managed to at least route myself somewhere productive in my post-Connor-Showdown-Panic, class was the last thing on my mind. </p>
<p>Honestly, the team was at the front of my thoughts. I had admittedly been beating around the bush in telling them about Connor. It’s not that I’d forgotten the promise I made all those weeks ago, back before the god-forsaken Florida case. To be fair, we’d been pretty swamped since then. The chili (I shuddered <i>again</i>), Penelope and Fake Chris, and now three cases in a row… it hadn’t felt like the right time to say anything. </p>
<p>Yeah, okay. That was a cop out too. I could’ve said something. Hell, I <i>should’ve</i> said something by now. I knew better than this. I was taking the profiling classes, I was witnessing UnSubs face-to-face, I read the reports. I knew how bad things could get with Connor… </p>
<p>As much as I wanted to pretend I’d stayed quiet because I could handle Connor myself, I knew that wasn’t true. I couldn’t even lie to myself on that. Sure, I’d told him off in the parking lot, but clearly that hadn’t stuck with him. No, it was the fear of rejection I just couldn’t will myself to get past. </p>
<p>It was my own Uncle taking Connor’s side despite the hand-shaped bruises on my neck. It was my own parents insisting I’d overreacted and refusing to press charges because they didn’t want to ruin Connor’s reputation. It was my friends at school siding with Connor and shunning me the rest of high school because there was just no way they could believe he’d just act without reason. </p>
<p><i>He wouldn’t hurt you unprovoked. It’s not just one-sided, you must’ve done something to bring it on.</i> </p>
<p>The excused for Connor never stopped, and the belief in my side of things had never started. It had been one thing, coming from mom, dad, Uncle Randy… people I’d grown used to being disappointed by. People that I really couldn’t care one way or the other what they thought of me. </p>
<p>Penelope was already behind me, that was true. But the others… How would it feel to have Morgan, Em, and JJ doubt me? To have Hotch and Rossi insist I was just overreacting? To have <i>Reid</i> look me in the eyes and tell me I’d deserved what Connor put me through?</p>
<p>How could I ask any of them to take my side, to support me, or to even believe me when I didn’t even believe myself? I couldn’t handle the thought of their rejection, and I wouldn’t <i>have</i> to handle it if I didn’t say anything.</p>
<p>By the time class was over, I somehow felt worse than before. Slowly, I gathered the notebook I hadn’t even used and grabbed my long-forgotten bag of lunch. As I trudged out of the lecture hall, I dug through the bag with a frown on my face. Dropping it had popped the box open, and all the veggies and chicken had glumped into the bottom in an unappetizing pile. </p>
<p><i>Fine. Just the fortune cookie for me</i>, I grumbled, shifting the box aside to look for it. As I did so, a white bundle beneath the veggies caught my attention. I stepped aside on the sidewalk and fished out the questionable soggy lump. As I shook it out, realization slammed into me and I sucked in a breath. </p>
<p>My receipt. </p>
<p>My receipt had been in my bag the whole time. Connor hadn’t been <i>just trying to give me my receipt</i>. It’d just been more gaslighting, more lies and manipulation to get under my skin. He’d just thrown something out to make me look like an idiot, like he always did. </p>
<p><i>You have a bad habit of doubting yourself. Even when you know you’re right, you talk yourself out of your answer.</i> </p>
<p>Reid’s words from this morning filtered in and pushed away the little bit of lingering skepticism Connor had brought up. I <i>hadn’t</i> been crazy. I <i>hadn’t</i> been overreacting. I had been perfectly justified, and once again Connor had twisted it around to make me doubt myself. Angry tears pricked my eyes as I threw the bag away and stormed down the sidewalk. I was furious, and I had no idea what to do about it. </p>
<p><i>Should’ve stabbed him with the fork,</i> I lamented, jogging across the street heading for my dorm. I had no idea what I was gonna do. Change and go for a run around the campus, keep myself in shape for Hotch’s ridiculous exercise regime? Or did I want to drive to Walmart, buy a gallon of ice cream, and down it in the parking lot as I cried and listened to <i>My Chemical Romance</i> on repeat?</p>
<p>At this point I was ready to swing either way. </p>
<p>Irritably I badged into the dorm building and took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. Still grumbling to myself, I moved to pull the door to my hall open when I looked through the window. </p>
<p>Connor was leaning against the wall beside my room, arms crossed, watching the students that walked past. There were no windows in the lobby or the stairwell, so there was no way he could’ve seen what floor I went to the other night. </p>
<p>Somehow, though, he knew exactly where my room was, and now he was waiting for me. He had found exactly where I lived, and now he was waiting for me. He wasn’t here for work, he wasn’t just happening across me or running into me by coincidence. </p>
<p>Connor was stalking me, and I had to do something about it. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Most of the cars were gone from the parking garage by the time I pulled into Quantico. We all had a habit of parking near the south entrance on the second level of the garage. It was easier to figure out who was here or not if we all parked close by, and tonight the only car I recognized from our usual lot was Hotch’s sedan. </p>
<p>Right now, that was all I needed. </p>
<p>As I hurried to the entrance, I wiped off my tear-stained cheeks and tried to make myself look like I hadn’t been crying for the last twenty miles. I was, unfortunately, an angry crier, and I got more tearful with rage than I did with sadness most of the time. Connor was never an exception to that. </p>
<p>Thankfully, the lobby was mostly empty so I didn’t have to try and look put together just yet. I reached for the button but before I could press it, Connor’s words from the week before rose up in my mind. </p>
<p>
  <i>Can you prove it? Really? Would any of your empty accusations really hold up in court?</i>
</p>
<p>My hand hovered, outstretched, just a breath away from the button. </p>
<p>
  <i>I’m here on business. I’ve got all the paperwork I need to prove that if anyone were to come asking about it.</i>
</p>
<p>Again, I hated to admit it, but Connor was clever. If he was still in town, still bothering me without any concern to what I’d threatened just the other week, it meant he was confident in what he said. </p>
<p>But… being here for work didn’t excuse showing up on my campus. It didn’t excuse waiting outside my room. It <i>still</i> didn’t excuse how he even knew where to find me or what department I worked in. </p>
<p><i>What if he has excuses for that?</i> I worried just as I let my finger rest against the elevator button; I hesitated again. <i>He was ready with the receipt to make me look crazy. Last time, he was ready with the tears and sob story to win over my own family.</i></p>
<p>No matter what seemed to happen, no matter how certain I was that I was valid in my concerns or that he was the bad guy in this, it <i>always</i> got turned around onto me. Even just today, he’d gotten sympathy from strangers with hardly saying a word. And now, even knowing he was way out of line, knowing that he had no valid reason to be anywhere near me, he’d managed to plant that doubt inside me again that had me questioning my own thoughts. That’s what had always terrified me the most, to be honest. </p>
<p>It wasn’t the fear of him hurting me physically. The fact that Connor could get inside my mind and turn me against myself was frightening, and it hurt me more than any time he’d laid his hands on me. There was no way to describe the panic and helplessness of seeing my own certainties shift to doubt after I’d been so sure of myself. Because even when I knew what he was doing, he still managed to turn everyone – myself included – against me. </p>
<p>Slowly, my hand pulled away and curled to my chest as I took a step back. Tears of frustration pricked at my eyes. I felt powerless against him, and I’d never wanted to feel that way with Connor ever again. I just… I couldn’t go to Hotch like this. </p>
<p>If Connor had been ready with the stupid receipt excuse, what did he have planned now? All he’d been doing was standing in my hall. Why had that sent me thirty miles to my boss at what was nearly midnight?</p>
<p>I was walking back towards the parking garage before I could stop myself. Tears fell down my cheeks and I angrily wiped them away. I was so damn stupid! I <i>knew</i> Connor was out of line, I <i>knew</i> I needed to tell someone, I was <i>right fucking here</i> and I couldn’t even do it –</p>
<p>“Aria?”</p>
<p>I hadn’t even heard Reid come into the lobby. Barely stifling a scream, I gasped and spun on the spot to stare across at him wide-eyed. The doors of the elevator slid shut behind him as he started towards me, smile on his face. </p>
<p>“I thought you weren’t coming back until Thursday. And it’s –“ he twisted his arm around to glance at his watch. “It’s 11:30. Why are you –“</p>
<p>He was close enough now to see my face clearly, and his words cut off in surprise as he blinked rapidly, taking in my expression. Red, sore eyes, tear-stained cheeks, the look of a lost puppy staring helplessly up at him… </p>
<p>“Um, hi,” was all I managed, my voice raw and rough, breaking on just that simple greeting. He crossed the rest of the lobby in all of three long strides and was at my side in the next moment. </p>
<p>“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked quickly. My mind flew into self-defense, and I automatically started to think of excuses. <i>Just had a long day at school. That physics lab really kicked my ass. I paid fifteen dollars for my lunch and had to throw it away –</i> Reid’s hand settled on my arm and he added softly, “please don’t lie to me.”</p>
<p>The excuses fizzled out, the soft touch instantly calming the waves of panic and frustration rushing over me. As I stared up at him, willing myself to get the courage to just tell him the truth, his hand slowly shifted a little further up my arm. As his brows furrowed, I followed his gaze and watched as his fingers gently pushed the sleeve of my cardigan up past my elbow. I hadn’t even noticed the marks, but Reid had. Of course he had. </p>
<p>A handful of small bruises dappled my skin, and a few faded scratches cut across them. Reid’s fingers skimmed over the marks slowly before trailing down my arm. His hand tangled with my own, and when he squeezed gently I met his gaze again. </p>
<p>“Let me help you, Aria. <i>Please</i>.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t just an offer, it was a plea. Reid was begging me to open up to him and once again his words rose up. <i>Have confidence in what you know, because so far your instincts have always been right.</i> I had no idea if he would believe me, if I even believed myself right now, but I did at least know one thing. </p>
<p>I didn’t want to be alone in this anymore. </p>
<p>Whether he believed me, or doubted me, or <i>whatever</i>, I just needed someone else to know. I needed someone else to share the insurmountable weight of helplessness and fear and self-hatred that Connor had piled onto my shoulders. </p>
<p>I took a deep breath as I held his stare, looking for any sign – either from him or from some spiritual entity – that I should just stay quiet. The only thing I saw was Reid’s genuine concern. I took a breath. </p>
<p>“Do… do you remember, when I first joined the team, you and I talked a bit about my family?”</p>
<p>He nodded instantly. “Before the case in Cherry Creek.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” I confirmed, giving a breathy chuckle. Of course he remembered. “I um, I didn’t go into a lot of detail, but I think I mentioned my ex.” </p>
<p>Reid nodded slowly but when the words sunk in his frown darkened even more. His troubled gaze flicked back to the marks on my arm and his hand tightened in mine. </p>
<p>“He’s who’s been calling you,” he guessed, and when I nodded his eyes narrowed just a hint. He was going back through the last few months, back through all the times he’d caught me looking panicked and upset. “This… he’s been doing this since October?”</p>
<p>“Since, um, since the kidnapping case. With Katie Jacobs.”</p>
<p>Reid’s eyes widened. “Since – that was the end of September. Almost four months.”</p>
<p>Again, all I could do was nod. Between the expression on his face and the incredulous tone of his voice, I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. He sounded mad, almost disbelieving. Was he upset I was blubbering about this at nearly midnight, after he’d just gotten back from a case? I knew this had been a bad idea. </p>
<p>“It’s – it’s just been phone calls and texts,” I tried to downplay quickly; Reid shook his head. </p>
<p>“Something’s changed. You were handling the calls but now something else has happened that prompted you to come to a place you feel safe, looking for help,” he profiled. I still couldn’t decipher the expression on his face, and as he spoke his voice just got more and more clipped. When I didn’t start talking he prompted, “Aria.”</p>
<p>“He… showed up at my school, and I just – I panicked. I don’t – I don’t know what happened. I saw him outside my room and I just, I came here,” I rushed out; Reid’s jaw ticked and I recognized the look that flitted over his face. Instantly I went to pull my hand away. “You’re angry”</p>
<p>He re-tangled our fingers before I could fully let go of his hand, and he kept his gentle-but-firm hold in place. “I am. I’m angry because he’s been harassing you for months to the point you no longer feel safe. I’m angry that he hurt you, and that he’s made you feel like you couldn’t tell me – um, the team – that this was happening.”</p>
<p>“You… <i>that’s</i> why you’re mad?” I whispered incredulously. Reid nodded sharply, but when he took in the disbelief in my eyes his face softened. Again, he understood what I was trying to say without me even needing to say it. </p>
<p>“Aria, I’m not upset with <i>you</i>. I’m upset that he’s made you feel this frightened and that you’ve clearly felt you couldn’t come to any of us about this sooner. I’m just… I’m upset that I couldn’t help you with this months ago to keep it from getting this far.”</p>
<p>“You believe me,” I said slowly. He nodded instantly, his hand tightening securely around my own in silent reassurance as he studied my face once again. He was profiling me, reading into what I was still trying to hold back.  </p>
<p>“I believe you. Other people haven’t before. They weren’t there when you needed them,” he guessed, getting a tight-lipped nod from me. “I’m here. I told you I’d help if you’d let me, and I meant it.”</p>
<p>Reid looked alarmed when I pulled my hand swiftly out of his, but before he could worry that he’d done something wrong I stepped closer and slid my arms around his waist. <i>Laundry. Leather. Warmth. Safety</i>. The soft, soothing scents wreathed around me as Reid’s arms did the same, hugging me tight to him, not even tensing at my touch this time. My hands tangled into his sweater vest as my face buried against his chest.</p>
<p>There was so much I wanted to say to him. So many things I needed him to know. About how thankful I was, how much I appreciated him, how relieved just those three words had made me feel. </p>
<p><i>I believe you</i>.</p>
<p>No one had told me that before about Connor and Reid had said it without hesitation. </p>
<p>Reid knew, because again <i>of course</i> he did. When we finally pulled back, before separating completely he linked our fingers again. Wordlessly, he turned and gently led me after him towards the elevator. </p>
<p>He didn’t let go of me the whole way up to our floor. He didn’t let go as he led me through the glass doors, and he didn’t even let go as we approached Hotch’s office. I hesitated at the top of the ramp and he paused to look back at me. </p>
<p><i>Trust me,</i> he asked, those soft, caramel eyes holding unwavering reassurance. I gave him a small, nervous nod and he stepped forward into the office with him. He finally let go of my hand, and rested his hand gently against my lower back to nudge me forward. </p>
<p>Hotch didn’t look up as we entered, nor as I slowly inched closer. He was again buried nose-deep in stacks of paperwork, and I had no doubt he planned to be there all night. I shuffled meekly towards his desk, and halfway through he finally caught the movement. </p>
<p>At first he offered a small smile, brows raising in question as to why I was creeping towards him as awkwardly as I was. When he studied my face for another couple of moments, though, the smile faded and he sat up a little straighter. His eyes flicked briefly over my shoulder to Reid, and then settled on me again. </p>
<p>“Aria?” he asked, setting the file in his hand aside and leaning forward on his desk. “I thought you were at school until Thursday. Is everything alright?”</p>
<p><i>You can do this. Hotch will believe you,</i> I promised myself as I took a deep breath. My fingers were tangled together so tightly I was starting to lose feeling in a few. I really wished I still had Reid’s hand. Finally having reached the seat at his desk, I sank down as I asked him quietly, </p>
<p>“Um… you – you were a prosecutor before you joined the BAU, right?” He gave a slow nod, the look of focused concern not wavering. “I… um, if I didn’t feel safe, what could I do?”</p>
<p>Slowly, <i>painfully</i> slowly, Hotch lowered the folder he’d been holding down onto the desk and he leaned forward, clasping his hands together. His dark eyes flicked between my own as he ran over what he wanted to say. </p>
<p>“Is it some<i>one</i> or some<i>thing</i> making you feel unsafe?”</p>
<p>“Someone,” I whispered; Hotch took a deep breath. </p>
<p>“The best place to begin would be requesting an emergency protective order. It’s effective for seventy-two hours. After that, you’d have to request a preliminary protective order.” As I nodded slowly, my fingers tangled so tightly into my skirt I was sure I’d rip it in a few moments, he asked quietly, “who’s making you feel this way, Aria?”</p>
<p>I tried really, really hard not to cry. I already felt dumb enough, scuttling into my boss’s office at nearly midnight because I was too scared to go home. The last thing I wanted to do was cry, but it seemed my body wasn’t getting the message. </p>
<p>And then suddenly Reid was at my side. He’d taken the other seat at Hotch’s desk, and when I looked over he gave me a small, reassuring smile. <i>Let us help you</i>. I gave him a small nod as I looked back to Hotch. </p>
<p>“I um – there’s – I have this…” I took a shaky breath, and a tear ran down my cheeks as I finally said out loud, “my ex has been stalking me and I-I’m scared. He found my school and he knows I’m with the BAU and he knows where I sleep and I – I don’t know what to do, Hotch.”</p>
<p>The sob that left me was nothing short of pathetic and I dropped my chin to my chest as more tears fell into my lap. Reid’s hand settled on my leg to give me instant comfort, and a heartbeat later a pair of shiny black dress shoes appeared in my line of vision. Hotch sank to a knee in front of me. </p>
<p>He didn’t say a word as he leaned forward and pulled me into a tight, secure hug. He tucked me into his chest just like Reid had, and held me just as securely as my arms instantly wrapped around him in return. One of his hands ran up and down my back, and the other smoothed down my hair. </p>
<p>Somehow, Hotch had managed to maneuver us up and over to the couch against the far wall. As we settled on the cushions, Reid stood uncertainly and tightened his hands nervously around the strap of his bag. </p>
<p>“Do you want me to go?”</p>
<p>“No,” I said instantly, shaking my head until I remembered the time. I glanced at the clock on the far wall and grimaced. “I mean. You probably should. It’s past midnight –“</p>
<p>“I don’t mind,” he assured, already sinking onto the couch beside me; his hand settled over my own resting on the couch. Giving him a small smile, I turned back to look up at Hotch. He’d kept an arm around my shoulders for comfort and I leaned into his hold a bit as he asked, </p>
<p>“When did this start happening?”</p>
<p>With Reid’s help, we walked Hotch through the timeline of Connor’s calls and texts. I was thoroughly surprised (and a little pleased, to be honest) that Reid had taken note of all he had. He’d noticed every day that I’d appeared upset or not quite myself, and most of them lined up with Connor. </p>
<p>“You say this started shortly after the case in Denver. Do you remember seeing him during our time there?”</p>
<p>“No,” I assured, and then answered his next question before he could ask. “My parents probably told him they saw me. I mean, they love him more than me without a doubt, and I know Aubri and Rhett wouldn’t have talked to him.”</p>
<p>Hotch nodded slowly, processing what I’d said before he continued on. </p>
<p>“It’s clear that there’s been emotional and verbal abuse from him, but has he ever gotten physical with you?” Reid felt me tense under his touch, and his hand tightened over mine. I didn’t need to speak for Hotch to get my answer, and his frown got impossibly deeper. “Your parents would still talk to him about you after he abused you?”</p>
<p>A heavy, cold lump settled in my throat and I swallowed hard, dropping my eyes to my lap. Reid’s thumb began a smooth, swirling pattern over my hand and my wrist, comforting me softly and encouraging me on. “They… they didn’t believe me. I had to call the police when he –“ my words caught and I took a shaky breath. “My Uncle called me a liar and my parents didn’t even press charges. Everyone just acted like it never happened –”</p>
<p>“That’s not happening this time.” Hotch’s solemn words settled over me and I looked up at him instantly, speechless. He nodded to Reid and said, “the team is with you, and I promise you his harassment isn’t going to be excused. We won’t let anything happen to you.”</p>
<p>“We’re here with you,” Reid reminded me again, thumb continuing to brush over the back of my hand. “It’s going to be okay.”</p>
<p>There was no doubt in my mind, no nagging self-doubt or uncertainty. This wasn’t my mom and dad. This wasn’t Uncle Randy, or any of my shallow ‘friends’ from school. This was Hotch, and this was Reid. </p>
<p><i>This</i> was my family, and now I knew without a doubt that my family was with me, no matter what.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yay, Monday! I never used to be excited to start the week, but you guys are so awesome I look forward to it just so I can hear from you guys again!</p>
<p>Yes, another filler chapter! This was going to be part of the next chapter, but I felt it needed to be on its own. Are you happy that Aria finally told Reid and Hotch? How do you think it's gonna go, now that they know? What about the rest of the team? What about Connor!? I can't wait to hear your thoughts! If you don't already, be sure to click on the link in the summary for Aria's outfit - I included a picture of Connor with this one!</p>
<p>I really want to point out that I desperately tried to make the physics stuff accurate. I made the fatal mistake of making Aria wildly smarter than I am and I literally have no idea what she and Reid end up talking about. I hope y’all can forgive me if the stuff on vector algebra and kinetic energy is totally wrong (because OF COURSE a bunch of y’all actually freaking took general physics and actually know all this stuff…) but I tried! </p>
<p>Thank you so much for reading. It's been a rough week and honestly writing this chapter and getting to look forward to hearing from y'all helped me get through it. I can't say enough how much I appreciate you guys!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Statistics, Stars, and Soliloquies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x10 - True Night</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At 3:30am on the dot, Penelope’s phone started ringing. The two of us sat up, saw the time, and gave identical, despairing groans. I rolled to bury myself in my half of the pillows while she blindly smacked a hand around her bedside table. </p>
<p>“H’lo?” she mumbled as I already started dozing off again. “Mhmm. Yes sir. We’ll be there in half an hour.”</p>
<p>“<i>Noooo</i>,” I whined to the pillows, squeezing them tighter and refusing to budge as Penelope shook my arm gently. “Tell Hotch I quit. I’m just moving into your apartment forever and you can support the both of us.”</p>
<p>“As much as I love you, there’s no way I’m ever letting you quit on me,” she denied, and then somehow managed to grab my arm and roll me onto my back before I could brace myself. She snapped on the bedside lamp and I groaned louder, draping an arm over my face. “C’mon, honeybee. If you’re ready in ten, we can stop and get some breakfast.”</p>
<p>I peeked out at her from under my arm. “Waffle House?” </p>
<p>“Waffle House,” she confirmed, grinning as I reluctantly righted myself and shoved the blankets off. I’d do almost anything for their bacon, egg, and cheese hashbrown bowl and she knew it. It took a little longer than ten minutes to get us out of the apartment and, after taking too long ordering breakfast, my best friend had reluctantly handed me over her keys. </p>
<p><i>Make sure we’re not late</i> had been my only instructions, and apparently someone wasn’t appreciative of the fact I made the rest of the twenty-minute commute in just under twelve. </p>
<p>The moment I parked the car, Penelope was wrangling the keys out of the ignition. I went to snatch them back and she swatted my hand away, dropping them into the vast, bottomless depths of one of her ten thousand bags. </p>
<p>“<i>Penelope</i> –“</p>
<p>“Uh-uh! You’re a mean driver and I’m not letting you tarnish my car’s reputation on the road anymore!” she huffed at me, hurrying to get out of my reach before I could wrestle her for the keys, like I was nearly ready to do. </p>
<p>I reluctantly got out and as I shut the door. The moment I did, she plunged her hand into the bag she’d thrown the keys into and hit the lock button on her key fob, making a point to keep me out of her car. </p>
<p>I rolled my eyes at her and scoffed, “okay now you’re just overreacting.”</p>
<p>“You were <i>aggressive</i>! That guy flipped us off! I’ve never been flipped off on the road before!”</p>
<p>“And I flipped him off in return. Problem solved,” I soothed, shrugging my shoulders as I followed her across the parking garage. “Besides, he was <i>begging</i> to be passed. He was going ten under the speed limit!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and you were going fifteen <i>over</i>!” As she started to again voice her disagreement with my tactical driving methods, my eyes settled onto what had quickly become my favorite view of the day. </p>
<p>Just as he had been for the last several days, Reid was waiting by the lobby doors. Since that Tuesday night in Hotch’s office, he’d insisted on walking both myself and my temporary roommate to and from the parking garage, just to be safe. When I’d told Penelope that I’d not only told both him and Hotch about Connor, she’d been thrilled. When she’d first seen him waiting for us she’d <i>actually</i> squealed. </p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, Penelope Garcia wasn’t skilled at keeping it cool. I was pretty sure that phrase wasn’t even in her vocabulary.</p>
<p>I couldn’t blame her; I felt the same way. To say my heart melted each and every time I saw him waiting was a huge understatement. As we approached him, he tucked his hair behind his ear – the action somehow becoming more appealing each time he did it - and gave a small wave that I eagerly returned. I could barely keep my smitten smile to myself. </p>
<p>“Hey, no getting out of admitting I’m right just by drooling over your knight in shining polyester,” Penelope teased, and I threw her my most subtle <i>shut up before you give me away, woman!</i> scowl. </p>
<p>“It’s cotton, actually,” I corrected her. As she raised a bemused brow at the fact that I knew his sweater vest material I quickly diverted, “and I’m not admitting anything. I was not being too aggressive!”</p>
<p>“You are the definition of aggressive when you’re behind the wheel,” Penelope argued, giving me a look as we gathered next to Reid. She glanced around and asked, “didn’t Morgan give you a ride?”</p>
<p>“He did, but he already went up to make some coffee,” he told us as he stepped back and held the door. Penelope smirked and looked between us. “Why?”</p>
<p>Before she could tease either of us about him waiting to walk us up, I skirted inside and then turned to face him as I said quickly, “because she’s trying to get people to agree that I’m an aggressive driver.”</p>
<p>Reid’s lips twitched as he fought off a bemused smile. “What definition of <i>aggressive</i> are we going by, yours or the dictionary’s?”</p>
<p>“<i>Reid</i>,” I whined, falling into step with him as Penelope victoriously sauntered ahead of us across the lobby. “All I did was honk just a <i>little</i> bit as we passed this guy. But he was like ten under the speed limit –“</p>
<p>“And you were <i> fifteen over</i>,” Penelope reminded over her shoulder; I ignored her. </p>
<p>“I wasn’t <i>aggressive</i>, I was just getting us to work on time!” I defended, and as we gathered by the elevator Penelope turned and planted her hands on her hips. </p>
<p>“You had no reason to honk at him,” she began, and then Reid said one of my favorite sentences. </p>
<p>“<i>Actually</i>, that’s not quite true.” The doors slid open and though I stepped on, Penelope didn’t move. She was staring up at Reid, a mix of betrayal and disbelief in her eyes as she glared up at him. </p>
<p>“Don’t you dare take her side on this,” she warned, reluctantly getting on after him and crossing her arms. Reid hesitated and I instantly nudged his arm in encouragement. </p>
<p>“Tell her I’m right, Scruffy.”</p>
<p>His cheeks went full-fledged pink at the nickname and it took a second for him to gather his thoughts. Honestly, I hadn’t planned on it sticking, but as soon as I’d seen how flustered it made him… well, how could I resist?</p>
<p>Even in the midst of our arguing Penelope didn’t miss the nickname, or his reaction to it, and she gave me a devilish grin. Thankfully, Reid’s answer came spilling out before she could even start to tease. </p>
<p>“There used to be a law in Virginia that stated a driver had to honk their horn when passing a vehicle. Currently, title 46 of the Virginia Code has a statement that explains a driver should use a light signal <i>or</i> an audible aid to alert a driver if they’re planning to overtake them while driving. The law is more directed towards the other vehicle to state they have to make way for the passing vehicle if they see or hear a signal. But, technically, it’s lawful – and almost recommended by the code – for Aria to honk while passing.”</p>
<p>Penelope stood in absolute stunned silence for almost three whole floors. Finally, though, she made a noise of frustration as she turned away from him. “I cannot <i>believe</i> you managed to legally defend her road rage.”</p>
<p>“I – it wasn’t road rage!” I said indignantly. Okay, admittedly it had been <i>I’m mad I have to be awake before sunrise</i> rage, but that’s a totally different thing! “You’re just mad that Reid proved me right.”</p>
<p>“It’s one thing to get called into work at 4am, but it’s another thing to be ambushed unfairly by my one teammate after nearly being killed by another,” Penelope huffed eyeing Reid and I as she called us out. The moment the doors opened, she dramatically flipped her hair over her shoulder and stalked out of the elevator. </p>
<p>“Penny,” I laughed, moving to go after her. She waved her hand at me dismissively as she huffed,</p>
<p>“No, I don’t think so. You and boy genius can go sit in the bullpen and think about the unfair abuse you’ve given me.”</p>
<p>Reid and I shared an amused smile as we watched her bustle off towards her lair. At the end of the hall, she paused and looked back to stick her tongue out at us. I blew her a kiss in return and she let a giggle slip past her angry façade before scurrying off out of sight. </p>
<p>“Is that honking thing really a law?” I asked Reid as he held the door for me. He gave a small shrug and admitted, </p>
<p>“<i>Technically</i> yes. It’s an antiquated law that was never removed from the records, though it’s not truly enforced. Similar to it being illegal to drive without shoes, or that it’s illegal to tickle a woman.”</p>
<p>I paused at my desk and shucked my purse onto my chair as I turned to look up at him in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, <i>what</i>?”</p>
<p>Reid gave his toothy grin and nodded as he explained, “the initial origin of the law is unclear but it stems from the legality of touching someone without given consent. Again, the tickling portion isn’t necessarily enforced, but it <i>could</i> be an argued point when it comes to physically harassment or assault.”</p>
<p>“Remind me to threaten Morgan with that the next time he tries tickling me,” I told Reid, getting a giggle from him. As I pulled out my breakfast from my bag, I held it up to him. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten any yet so it hasn’t been opened.”</p>
<p>Smiling at my offer, he shook his head and tugged out a small Tupperware of scrambled eggs.</p>
<p>“It’s recommended to eat eggs for breakfast as they elevate the levels of high-density lipoprotein, which help to lower the risk of heart disease, stroke, and other health issues. As well, they’re a good source of choline, which is a vitamin used to build cell membranes and produce signaling molecules to the brain. In fact, just one egg has about 127 milligrams of choline, which is roughly 27% of the daily value recommended by the FDA.”</p>
<p>As Reid paused, I saw concern and embarrassment flicker onto his face. Though he didn’t do it as much as he had a few months ago, when he caught himself on a fact dump he still felt the need to apologize. One day, I really hoped he could trust me enough to know that I really meant it when I said I loved his knowledge tangents, but until then I had no problem reassuring him.</p>
<p>“So then it sounds like eggs are the best breakfast for a profiler,” I said before he could try to take back any of what he’d told me. I shook my to-go box and added, “although I’m guessing they’re a little healthier on their own instead of smothered with artificial cheese and greasy potatoes.”</p>
<p>For a moment, Reid just gave me a small, appreciative smile. He knew exactly what I was doing, and though neither of us had to mention it, we both understood what my encouragement meant to him. </p>
<p>Before we could say more, though, we heard a door open from the top of the ramp and the two of us glanced back. Hotch leaned out of his office and, at the look on his face, he didn’t even need to say anything for me to know we needed to talk. I quickly sat my food down and nodded towards Hotch. </p>
<p>“I’ll see you in the conference room,” I told him quickly. He understood the reason I was being summoned and gave me a soft smile in support as I turned and hurried up the ramp. </p>
<p>Hotch stepped aside to let me scamper in, and I instantly took my customary seat on his office couch. As he had the last several days, Hotch settled next to me and let out a heavy sigh. He looked tired and annoyed, and it didn’t raise my hopes for good news. </p>
<p>“They still haven’t been able to serve the emergency order,” he said after another few moments of frustrated silence. “Which means it still hasn’t been put into effect. I could request it to be started before it’s issued to him, but then it wouldn’t be admissible evidence for use to support needing a preliminary protective order.”</p>
<p>I deflated, sighing and sinking back against the cushions as I dropped my eyes to my lap. “So if they can’t find him, he either won’t ever be issued or it won’t really count for anything.”</p>
<p>“While that’s true, I’m hopeful they can have the order issued in the next few days,” he began. The tone of his voice didn’t do anything to settle the unease inside of me and I looked up at him warily. He pressed his lips together briefly before explaining, “the sheriff that attempted to issue the order was able to confirm he <i>was</i> here on business, delivering a car to a client. It gives him cause to be in Virginia.”</p>
<p>It took a moment for his words to settle in. For a couple seconds I stared up at him with a frown, but when the realization finally dawned on me, panic jolted painfully through me and I sat bolt upright. Connor had been a step ahead of me on this <i>too</i> and I knew what it had to seem like to the man staring down at me. </p>
<p>“I wasn’t lying, Hotch,” I rushed out, taking a shaky breath as I stared back at him desperately. I didn’t want him to doubt me, and I knew how quickly Connor could turn others to his side. “I – I mean, <i>yes</i>, he told me it was for work but if you could’ve seen what he was like, if you’d heard <i>how</i> he was saying things –“</p>
<p>Hotch took both my hands in one of his and gave a firm, assuring squeeze. My words tapered off and I pressed my lips together, trying not to let myself cry before 5am. His eyes flicked between my own slowly for several moments before he said gently, </p>
<p>“I know,” he promised, voice so soft I could barely hear him. The honesty in his tone swirled around me in gentle, unexpected comfort and for a moment I was floundering between panic and relief. “Regardless of what he claims, I know exactly what his intentions were. Even if he <i>was</i> in Virginia for business, he still sought you out unnecessarily and he made you feel threatened. Though not factual proof, your own personal feelings and concerns <i>do</i> factor into the judge’s decisions.”</p>
<p><i>He believes me, he believes me, he believes me,</i> I chanted in assurance to myself as I took a shaking breath and nodded up at him. A little more composed, I managed to ask him, “do… do you think we still have a chance at getting that protective order, then?”</p>
<p>“I do, so long as we play our cards right,” he insisted without hesitation. “It <i>will</i> be challenging. He was unfortunately correct in stating that there’s not a lot of evidence to put against him. As his assault on you was never officially reported and your family won’t be reliable for statements against him, we’ll have to use his more recent behavior as our basis for the claims we’ll be making.”</p>
<p>“Will that be enough, though? I mean, all we’ve got is him showing up at school. I can’t even prove what he said to me,” I fretted, involuntarily starting to play with his fingers. If he minded, he didn’t say anything, and didn’t take his hand back. “Especially if he had a reason to be here.”</p>
<p>“Reason or not, it doesn’t excuse finding your school or following you onto campus. I’m working to prove that his business needs wouldn’t have given him reason to be on or near you during his time here. The case I’ve built from just the last few days should be enough solid evidence to show the risk to your safety,” he explained, catching me off-guard. He was so busy with work and his situation with Haley… when was he even finding time to build a case for me? “I’m assuming we can’t find him here because he’s going back to Colorado, so I have local law enforcement waiting to have him served when he returns to work. With him out of the state, and with us leaving on a case, we’ll also be able to ensure your safety until we can request the official protective order.”</p>
<p>The amount of time and effort Hotch had been putting into Connor the last five days left me honestly speechless. I knew that he’d requested the emergency order, but I’d had no idea he had built a whole <i>case</i>, let alone that he’d been borderline profiling Connor to figure out how to handle him. </p>
<p>God, the tears were trying to start again. Instead of letting myself devolve into a sappy puddle of sobs, I cleared my throat and asked, “do you really think he’d try to retaliate for having him served?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure, and that’s what makes me uneasy,” Hotch admitted, sighing again, his hand giving mine one last squeeze before he took it back and scrubbed it down his face.  “He’s clearly well aware of legal blind spots and how to manipulate them into his favor, which makes him a challenging opponent in a court battle. I think he’s too conscious of possible repercussions do anything outright or obvious, but he favors mind games and manipulation with you, which he could still get away with doing. I don’t want him having any chance at attacking you on any level.”</p>
<p>Wordlessly, I shifted on the couch and scooted to Hotch’s side. He lifted his arm and let me tuck myself into his side, wrapping his arms around my shoulders to hold me in a tight hug. We sat like that for a couple of long, quiet minutes as I let myself work through all the emotions that dealing with Connor continuously brought up. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” I mumbled into his suit, pulling away before I got any of my tears or makeup on him. Again. There was so much more I wanted to say, but I couldn’t piece the words together, and honestly I had a feeling Hotch already knew it anyways. Letting out a sigh of my own, I asked him, “should we still not say anything to the team?” </p>
<p>Hotch shook his head, arm still around me, and ran his hand up and down my arm in comfort as he continued to let me settle myself down. “No. Not just yet. We need to play this carefully and not give Connor anything to use against us or the case we’re going to present.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning up at him and cocking my head to the side. “What harm would the team knowing cause?”</p>
<p>Hotch caught me off guard with a smile and a soft chuckle. “It’s already been unsurprisingly difficult to keep Garcia reigned in. She was a keystroke away from launching a full cyber-attack on him the other day. I don’t doubt for a second the others will be just as determined to deal with Connor once they find out, and for now I want to keep things quiet until we make sure he’s handled.”</p>
<p>Uncertainty nagged at the back of my mind. Penelope was one thing, but… would the team really try to go all out over my crazy ex? Not that I doubted they were my adopted family, but I just… I couldn’t picture anyone defending me like that. It was bizarre enough that Hotch was compiling cases, and that Penelope had instantly taken me on as her unofficial roommate, <i>and</i> that Reid was getting to work early to walk me to and from the car… </p>
<p>Honestly, I was just waiting for Hotch to tell me it was too much, to tell me he’d have to step back and that he couldn’t sanction anyone else to spend time on me and my terrible taste in men –</p>
<p>“They <i>will</i> care, and they <i>will</i> ignore any order I give to keep them from following Connor to Colorado and handling him themselves,” Hotch told me, wry smile softening his face even further. At the look I gave him though, he faltered just a hint. “What is it?”</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare try to tell me you’re not a mind reader,” I threatened, only half-joking. Hotch couldn’t hold in the snort of amusement, sitting back fully and shaking his head at me.   </p>
<p>“I’m just observing your <i>micro expressions</i>,” he corrected; I raised a brow at him doubtfully.</p>
<p>“Hmm. Is that what you kids are calling it these days?” </p>
<p>As he went to answer, more voices rose up from the bullpen. Morgan and JJ had just arrived, both instantly gathering around Reid. Not five seconds at my desk and Morgan was already honing in on my breakfast. </p>
<p>“<i>Is this a hashbrown bowl?! It’s a hashbrown bowl, it definitely is</i>,” he deduced excitedly; Reid made a noise of objection as Morgan made to grab the box. JJ’s alarmingly fast reflexes had her smacking his hands away before he got the chance. </p>
<p>“<i>Leave her food alone! You have your weird protein breakfast bars,</i>” she pointed out, tugging one from the pocket of his jacket.</p>
<p>“<i>Well I’d</i> rather <i>have me a Waffle House breakfast,</i>” he argued, moving for my food again. I rolled my eyes and shoved to my feet as Hotch stared up at me. I went to open the door when his eyes narrowed just a hint. </p>
<p>My hand hovered over the door handle as I gave him a guarded frown. “What?” </p>
<p>“How did you manage to stop at a Waffle House <i>and</i> get here in under half an hour?” he asked, genuinely bewildered. I went to answer, but he held up a hand and shook his head. “From a legal standpoint I feel you shouldn’t give me that answer.”</p>
<p>“Hey, for your information, Reid confirmed I was actually following more laws than I was breaking,” I defended; Hotch’s wary stare didn’t waver. </p>
<p>“That’s not as assuring as you think it is,” he told me, scooping up a few folders. “Save your breakfast and then gather the others into the conference room.”</p>
<p>“10-4, bossman,” I teased, giving him a swift wink. Before I could leave the office, though, Hotch called out, </p>
<p>“Aria.” I paused and looked back at him over my shoulder. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” I promised him, no hesitation in my answer. He wasn’t the only one surprised by the honesty in my words; I hadn’t expected that reply either, truth be told. Now that I’d said it, though, I knew how right of an answer it was. “Thanks to you, I am.” </p>
<p>Hotch gave me a small, sweet smile as I made for my desk. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Fifteen minutes – and several attempts on Morgan’s life with my spork – later, Emily and Rossi had arrived and we were all gathered for briefing. Now that we were looking at the crime scene photos, though, I suddenly wasn’t hungry for the breakfast I’d fought so valiantly for. </p>
<p>“If you turn the page, you’ll see victims six and seven,” JJ instructed. I did as she ordered and then instantly regretted my decision. An arm, severed at the elbow, was lying in a literal <i>pool</i> of blood. </p>
<p>Vector Algebra and physics labs didn’t seem so terrible at the moment. </p>
<p>“The UnSub did this over a two-week period?” Emily asked, the disgust in her voice clear as she flicked through the other photos. </p>
<p>“Mhmm. All killed with the same bladed weapon,” she confirmed with a grim nod. Hotch, pacing around the table, paused by my side at the front of the table he studied the slides on the board.</p>
<p>“Each scene is gorier and more chaotic than the one before. It looks like the attacks are all getting progressively worse. With the patterns and the unrestricted violence, it’s almost certainly a full-blown psychotic break,” I pointed out, glancing up at him. He nodded, eyes not pulling from the images he was studying. Reid, in the seat next to me, sat forward and flipped to a report in the file, </p>
<p>“You’re right. The first five were lone victims, but six and seven were together. He’s getting bolder, and much more vicious, as the break worsens.”</p>
<p>Hotch <i>hmm</i>’d in agreement and turned to us, face etched into deep, shadowed concern. “He’s picking up speed and at this rate the body count will start to rise faster the further he devolves. JJ, tell L.A. we can be there by 9:30. We’ll head straight to the jet, I want wheels up in ten.”</p>
<p>JJ nodded and hurried off to make the calls. The rest of us made a beeline after Hotch out of the conference room, ready to face whatever was waiting for us in California. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“You’re not going to want to take the 101,” Reid pointed out, glancing up from the map as Morgan put his blinker on. “It would be much quicker to just take the 405 down to I-10 and then –“</p>
<p>Morgan reached over and pushed the map into his face. </p>
<p>“The GPS says that’s the quickest route and we’re already runnin’ late. We’re not gonna try and take some back-alley shortcuts.”</p>
<p>Clearing my throat, I leaned forward from the middle of the backseat and propped my elbows on their armrests. “Well, if someone had let <i>me</i> drive, we’d probably already be halfway there.”</p>
<p>“Ay, no one asked for commentary from the peanut gallery,” he griped, elbowing me back into my seat as he took the interchange. Almost the moment we got onto the 101, we hit standstill traffic.</p>
<p>Morgan glared straight ahead as Reid and I both leaned closer to fix him with <i>I-Told-You-So</i> smirks. Slowly, Reid smoothed out his map as he said idly, “except, the GPS doesn’t factor in the near-constant traffic that backs up this interchange.”</p>
<p>“Reid, is there a lot of traffic down on the I-10 exit?” I asked cheekily, leaning forward again. The scruffy doctor turned in his seat to give me one in return. </p>
<p>“There’s actually not. At this time of the day, though it’s longer in physical distance, it’s actually faster through the city,as it’s a less-driven highway than the 101 –“</p>
<p>Morgan let out a growl and turned to glare at Reid, who blinked patiently up at him. “<i>Okay</i>, kid. Point made. Tell me what exit to take.”</p>
<p>Reid’s smirk widened. “Exit 53. The one off of the 405 that leads to I-10.”</p>
<p>“Oh, is that the one he should’ve taken, had he been listening to us?” I piped up; I’m pretty sure Morgan briefly considered strangling me. </p>
<p>“That’s the one,” Reid agreed, barely swallowing a giggle. “It also happens to be the one that’s statistically much less time-consuming –“</p>
<p>“That’s it. I’m killin’ the both of you,” Morgan muttered, slumping back against the seat in defeat. I might’ve had mercy on him if he hadn’t swiped the second half of my breakfast. Or, y’know, let me drive like I’d wanted to. </p>
<p>Not that I was petty or anything. </p>
<p>After a bit more teasing until we could reach the next exit, Reid and I relented and helped navigate him through the city. By the time we pulled up to the scene, we were fifteen minutes past when JJ had told the detective we’d arrive and Morgan was seconds away from strangling us with the GPS he’d angrily unhooked while we were stuck in gridlock. </p>
<p>“You should’ve listened to me,” Reid said idly as he opened my door, letting me hop out and scamper after him around the SUV. I bit back a snort and Morgan scowled at us over his sunglasses. </p>
<p>“It wouldn’t have saved that much time, Reid. Let it go.”</p>
<p>I clasped my hands behind my back, taking my accustomed spot between the two of them as I sing-songed, “if you’d let me drive, it would’ve…”</p>
<p>Morgan stifled a snarl and pressed his lips together. “Alright, there was no way to know the traffic was gonna be that bad –“</p>
<p>“In fact, there was. The interchange between the 405 and the 101 freeways is <i>consistently</i> rated the worst interchange in the entire world. Statistically speaking, you’d have better odds of being crushed to death by a vending machine than you would of having no heavy traffic at that interchange.”</p>
<p>“Only about two people die by vending machine per year,” I quipped; Morgan paused and looked down at me. </p>
<p>“How the <i>hell</i> do you know that?” I pointed up at Reid and Morgan turned his gaze to him. “Why the hell do <i>you</i> know so much about that stupid interchange?”</p>
<p>Reid scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he said matter-of-factly, “It’s a government report.”</p>
<p>“So what?” Morgan dismissed, turning and stalking towards the scene, clearly done with the both of us. Reid and I shared giddy grins and hurried after him. </p>
<p>“<i>So</i>, you work for the government. What, you don’t read the reports?” </p>
<p>Morgan held up the crime scene tape and let us skirt under as he argued to Reid, “on traffic patterns in a city 2,500 miles away from where I live?”</p>
<p>“2,295 miles, actually.”</p>
<p>This time I <i>did</i> snort. </p>
<p>“Don’t make me smack the two’a you in front of all these people ‘cause I <i>will</i>,” Morgan threatened, waving a finger between the two of us as Reid tried to stifle his own giggles. I quickly swallowed my laughter down as the detective approached the three of us. </p>
<p>“Glad you guys made it. I’m Detective Brady, LAPD,” the man said, shaking Morgan’s hand. He shook mine, and I angled myself in front of Reid to keep him from reaching to him next. </p>
<p>“Agent Morgan. This is Dr. Reid, and Miss DiMaggio. The rest of our team’s in an SUV behind us –“</p>
<p>“Yeah, stuck in traffic,” Reid deadpanned. I snorted again and desperately tried to pass it off for a cough as Morgan whipped his head around to glare at us. Reid barely hid his victorious smile as he segued quickly, “uh, so you had two more victims last night?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Detective Brady said slowly, looking between us all before he nodded behind him. “They were discovered early this morning by our cleaning crew. What’s left of the bodies are in the alley, if you wanted to take a look.”</p>
<p><i>Not particularly, but I’m assuming that was a rhetorical offer,</i> I thought to myself as I asked him, “does it look to be the same victimology?”</p>
<p>“Well, there’s no ID on the bodies yet to start looking at it deeper, but the clothing fits the other vics, so I’d assume so. I mean, you guys really think this is <i>just</i> one guy?”</p>
<p>Reid lit up like a kid at Christmas and I motioned to him for an answer. </p>
<p>“With the level of overkill is very clearly a psychotic break. Now, the chances of multiple UnSubs in multiple violent psychotic breaks all working together, let alone at the same scene with the same results are extremely low.”</p>
<p>“Like the odds of being crushed to death by a vending machine,” I added; Reid barely kept a straight face as Morgan stifled a sigh. Detective Brady frowned at Reid and I clarified, “that’s a yes.”</p>
<p>The detective just nodded and stepped aside, motioning for us to head for the alley. Morgan shot us both a scowl before leading the way. Reid and I shared a quick, pleased grin before we rushed off after him. </p>
<p>Our smiles fell off our faces the moment we rounded the corner of the building. The unmistakable tang of blood tainted the air, so heavy it was nearly suffocating. A handful of cops were bunched off to the side, backs turned and faces paled, unable to stomach the scene; I didn’t blame them.</p>
<p>“Same victimology. I’d say it’s definitely our guy,” Morgan finally spoke, slowly leading us into the alley. “This guy’s definitely gettin’ off-the-charts brutal.”</p>
<p>He wasn’t exaggerating; the pictures hadn’t done the gruesome scene any justice. Severed limbs were scattered down the pavement, resting in thick pools of blood. All around us, splashes of dark crimson painted the bricks around us like macabre wallpaper. Reid and I hung back with the detective while Morgan began combing the scene, already on the phone with Hotch.  </p>
<p>“Did you know that a domestic cat let loose in a normal neighborhood is the equivalent of a small-scale ecological disaster?” Reid spoke up, arms crossing slowly over his chest as he studied the remains of the slaughter around us. His voice was a gentle comfort amongst the chaos we were standing in; a softness that felt almost out-of-place in the morbid shadows of this UnSub’s wrath. I shifted just a hint closer to him.  </p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Detective Brady grumbled, glancing up at him. Reid either didn’t notice the snide tone, or he didn’t care. I’d let it slide… for now. </p>
<p>“They’ll kill anything they can,” he elaborated, giving him a brief look as he rattled off, “bugs, rodents, birds, other cats, small dogs if possible… <i>anything</i>.”</p>
<p>The detective made a face and pointedly looked around the alley. “That got something to do with this?”</p>
<p>“An unsub in a violent psychotic break is worse,” I quipped, trying to keep my natural Reid Defense System on minimal. I didn’t miss the scruffy doctor’s hint of a smile at my somewhat-sharp tone, though. “He’s an uncontrolled, dominant predator let loose on unsuspecting, unprepared prey. He can’t stop – and <i>won’t</i> stop – until we force him to.”</p>
<p>The realization settled on the detective and his attitude slid off his face as he looked around the crime scene. He was finally asking himself what Reid, Morgan, and I were all worried about: how many more of these brutal murders would we come across before we managed to stop him?</p>
<p>Almost half an hour later, Hotch and the others <i>finally</i> made it to the scene. Morgan didn’t have to ask me twice – hell, he hardly had to ask the first time – to go and grab the rest of the team. I was out of the alley before he’d stopped speaking. </p>
<p>The coroner had just arrived, and the bodies (well, <i>pieces</i> of the bodies) were being gathered. I’d picked the perfect time to make myself scarce. Rossi noted the look on my face as I came to stand with him after ushering the others into the alley, lifting the crime scene tape up out of my way. </p>
<p>“That rough, eh?”</p>
<p>“I’m pretty sure there are actual slaughterhouses less gruesome than that,” I shuddered, folding my arms over my chest and shaking my head. “Whatever caused this UnSub’s break had to be pretty traumatic. I mean, you can <i>feel</i> his pain from the damage he caused.”</p>
<p>“You really think he’d do all this out of pain instead of fury?” Rossi mused, watching the others clean up the scene with me; I shrugged my shoulders.</p>
<p>“I do. I think that distress and grief can be much more powerful triggers than anger or revenge –“</p>
<p>A body careened into me and I stumbled to the side. Thankfully, Rossi had the reflexes of a hardened mob boss (there was no <i>way</i> this man wasn’t in the mafia) and he managed to not only keep me upright, but steady the guy that had tried to run through me. </p>
<p>“Woah, careful there,” he cautioned, the arm around me tugging me just a hint closer, away from the clearly-frazzled man. </p>
<p>“Sorry, uh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking,” the guy rushed out, twitching a half-hearted smile at me before his head swiveled towards the crime scene. Rossi and I exchanged a wary glance before I turned back to him. He was a few inches over me – which made him decently short for a man – and though he had a surprisingly kind face, the panic in his eyes put me on edge.</p>
<p>Upon further inspection, I caught the scrapes along his jaw and then the rip in the knee of his jeans. The more I took him in, the more he just looked… <i>rough</i>. Like he’d been thrown down a couple flights of stairs, at the very least. </p>
<p>“It’s alright, I’m fine,” I dismissed, and then motioned to his torn-and-bloodied pants. “Are <i>you</i>? You look a little banged up.”</p>
<p>He followed my gaze down to his clothes, but he didn’t answer. Rossi moved a little closer to him as he pressed, “how’d that happen?” </p>
<p>“I… think I fell. I was running,” he dismissed in what had to be <i>the</i> least convincing tone I’d ever heard. Morgan had sounded more sincere when he’d insisted he hadn’t touched my hashbrown bowl, even <i>with</i> a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth. </p>
<p>“Why were you running?” I asked; the man looked at me briefly but didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded past me towards the gurney being loaded into the coroner’s van. </p>
<p>“Are they dead?”</p>
<p>Again, Rossi caught my eye and shared a look of concern before he told the guy, “sure looks like it.”</p>
<p>“Are you <i>sure</i>?” he pressed, not looking away from the scene in front of him. Nodding with Rossi, I cleared my throat and offered, “My name’s Aria, and this is Agent Rossi. What’s your name?”</p>
<p>“Uh, Jon. Jon McHale,” he said absently, nearly unblinking, his eyes close to glossing over at this point. </p>
<p>“You live around here, Jon?” Rossi began, only to be interrupted by a very frantic man racing towards us. </p>
<p>“Jonny! Hey, man! I’ve been looking all over for you! Where’d you go?!” As he reached our gathering, the man looked Jon up and down and then glanced at us. “What happened to you, man?”</p>
<p>Jon took a shaking breath, and then finally looked away from the coroner’s van as he said quickly, “I – I need to get out of here.”</p>
<p>The man simply nodded, taking hold of Jon’s elbow and literally dragging him past us without another word. Rossi followed the movements, and only once they were out of sight did he turn to me again. “We need to get Garcia on that <i>il primia possible.</i>”</p>
<p>“<i>Già curato</i>,” I assured, holding up my phone as I hit <i>call</i> on Penelope’s name. As Rossi gave me a swift wink, Hotch, Morgan, and Reid finally came out of the alley, with JJ and Emily close behind. Hotch waved us over, and the two of us hurried off to join the team.</p>
<p>The faster we could start putting together the profile, the sooner we’d stop this UnSub from creating any more terrible scenes. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Emily stood at my shoulder, watching with a barely-concealed smirk as I struggled to pin the photo to the top of the board. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought she’d purposefully found the tallest one in the station <i>just</i> for this reason. </p>
<p>Knowing Emily, that wasn’t totally out of the question. As I stood up on my tiptoes I scrabbled with the pushpin and, unsurprisingly, the moment I let go the picture <i>and</i> the pin slipped off the board.  </p>
<p>“You sure you don’t need –“</p>
<p>“I don’t need help,” I huffed at Emily the moment she began again; now her smirk broke free and she bit back a laugh. Scowling, I knelt and grabbed the stupid inanimate objects that were mocking me in their own silent way. “It’s not my fault everyone on this team is freakishly tall. No one gave me the <i>must be 5’7” to join</i> memo.”</p>
<p>“It’s one of the requirements Gideon overrode to sneak you onto the team,” JJ announced, suddenly at my shoulder the moment I stood. I barely muffled the shriek of alarm that came out of me and clutched my chest, staring up at her incredulously. She was smirking too as she added casually, “I’m back, by the way.”</p>
<p>“I hate all of you,” I muttered under my breath as my heart tried to sink back into its original rhythm. “Not that I care, but how did your press conference go?”</p>
<p>JJ laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding the pin for me as I started my valiant fight with the photo again. “For once I think it went well really. The media actually understands what we’re looking for, so hopefully that’ll help speed things along.”</p>
<p>“Seriously?” I asked in surprise, getting an eager nod from JJ. <i>Finally</i> stabbing the picture into place, I sunk back down and held my hand out to Emily for the next picture. “Well, that’s unexpected good news for once.”</p>
<p>“On top of that, I managed to get some pictures of the crowd while the coroner was wrapping up,” Emily added, passing me the photo that, thankfully, didn’t need to go as far up. “As soon as Garcia finishes getting them processed we can start digging through those as well.”</p>
<p>At the mention of Penelope, a thought came to mind and I turned to look up at her curiously. “Did you happen to take pictures over towards Rossi and I?” </p>
<p>“Probably. I’m sure I got at least one or two. Why?”</p>
<p>“There was this guy that showed up – well, more like a guy that ran into me. He was… just kind of <i>off</i>,” I explained, tacking up the last picture she passed to me and then following her and JJ over to the table where the rest of our files were spread out.</p>
<p>JJ shared a look with Emily and then asked, “off? As in, <i>this guy is on drugs</i> off, or <i>this guy is on a psychotic break</i> off?”</p>
<p>“I mean, he seemed harmless enough but something just didn’t sit right,” I told her, and then pointed out, “I’m working on trusting my instincts more, so –“</p>
<p>“No, I think you’re right to question it,” JJ assured, nodding in support as she glanced past me. “Oh, looks like the rest of the team is back. I’m gonna go update them.”</p>
<p>Emily and I watched her rush off to the rest of the team as they filed into the station, and to my surprise Hotch looked over JJ’s head and met my eyes. He pressed his lips together, and then jerked his head to the side towards one of the empty conference rooms. </p>
<p><i>He had an update about Connor.</i> I quickly checked my watch; it would be just past noon in Colorado. If they’d gotten the chance to serve him, they would have done it by now. My stomach flip-flopped and for a second I forgot how to breathe correctly. </p>
<p>“Yikes, what’s <i>that</i> about?” Emily whispered to me as she caught Hotch’s motion to me, pulling me from my nerve-wracked thoughts. I hesitated and blinked up at her, totally at a loss for what to say. I <i>really</i> didn’t like the idea of lying to Em, but – </p>
<p>Emily’s hand settled on my shoulder and she gave me a comforting smile. “I know that look. If you can’t tell me, that’s fine.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, giving her an apologetic grimace. She just nodded and slid her hand around to my back, gently nudging me in Hotch’s direction. “I… it’s not that I don’t want to, I just –“</p>
<p>“Trust me, I know what Hotch is like. I understand, I really do. But if you need anything – even if it’s just a hug – you know where to find me.”</p>
<p>I paused my rush for Hotch and turned, smiling up at Emily as I pulled her into a tight, swift hug. She squeezed me back as I said honestly, “thanks, Emi. I take back my brief hatred from earlier.”</p>
<p>She snorted and playfully pushed me away, though she couldn’t hide the smile on her face (even when she tried). “Yeah, yeah. Go on before I find a taller board and confiscate your heels.”</p>
<p>Again, I paused and narrowed my eyes, doing the <i>I’m watching you</i> motion with my finger as I backed away. She rolled her eyes and I snickered to myself as I scampered after Hotch. As I slipped into the conference room, he eased the door shut, and when he turned to me there was a smile on his face. </p>
<p>“Good news?” I managed, the anxiety in my chest fluttering painfully and putting me even more on edge. When Hotch nodded, I let out a shaky laugh. </p>
<p>“Officer Briggs from the Denver Metro PD just called to inform me that the emergency stalking order was issued to Connor this morning,” he told me, smile widening along with my own. “I’ve already set up the hearing with the judge for next Monday, and the case is ready to go. As soon as we’re back, I can –“</p>
<p>Wordlessly, I stepped up to Hotch and wrapped my arms tight around his waist. The relief that washed over me was so powerful it nearly brought me to my knees. Thankfully, as always, he sensed what I needed and he held me tight to him as I took a few slow, deep breaths. </p>
<p>“I seriously can’t tell you how much all you’re doing means to me,” I mumbled into his chest, sniffing and desperately trying not to cry again. “I know it’s – it’s just the temporary order against him, but… now that there’s something out there, something <i>real</i> and <i>tangible</i> against him I actually… I kind of feel safe.” </p>
<p>His arms tightened just a hint as he reminded softly, “I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”</p>
<p>Welp, that did me in. His unexpectedly soft assurance touched raw and painful nerves I hadn’t even fully been aware of. How many nights after Connor had I wanted to hear my own parents tell me that? Hell, I <i>still</i> found myself hoping I’d get support and care from my mom and dad, and instead they’d been the ones to set Connor on my path in the first place. </p>
<p>Hotch had known me for just under five months, and he’d done more for me in that short time that my dad had done in twenty-one years. </p>
<p>“I, um... I haven’t ever – no one’s ever stood against Connor like this before,” I told him as we pulled apart; I hastily brushed the tears off my cheeks and did my best to give him a smile. “It’s just really… I never would’ve been able to do this if you hadn’t believed me, and that means more than I can tell you. I’m just really glad I have you with me for this.”</p>
<p>“I’m here to help you. And, even without knowing the situation, the entire team is behind you on this,” he promised me as his dark eyes flicked past my shoulder. I turned and, sure enough, the others were not-so-subtly watching us from the evidence board. </p>
<p>The moment they noticed we’d looked over, Emily and JJ spun around and began tacking papers to the board at random. Morgan picked up the nearest file, Rossi pretended to be absolutely fascinated with his cup of coffee, and Reid – at a loss – just gave a small wave.</p>
<p><i>Smooth</i>. </p>
<p>“For profilers, they really don’t know the meaning of <i>act natural</i>,” I snorted, giving a watery chuckle and turning to look up at Hotch again. Though he tried to keep his face serious, I could see the bemused smile sitting just below the surface. </p>
<p>“Not in the slightest,” he chuckled, shaking his head as his gaze settled on me once again. “Hopefully, though, this helps show you that – regardless of what happens from here on out – you won’t be alone in this.”</p>
<p>If I tried to speak again, I was gonna cry. Hotch understood the probably pathetic look on my face, and he just gave my arm a squeeze, giving me a smile that assured ‘<i>whenever you’re ready</i>’ as he slipped out of the conference room.</p>
<p>There was a part of me that wanted to doubt what he’d just said. Things with Connor <i>never</i> went right for me. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn’t get good news, I didn’t get unconditional support, and I didn’t get to feel like things were okay. Not with him.</p>
<p>Things were going to fall apart. As great as it all seemed now, something was going to go wrong. Something <i>always</i> did with Connor. Good things didn’t just happen –</p>
<p>“<i>Still it wouldn’t reward the watcher to stay awake<br/>in hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break<br/>on his particular time and personal sight.<br/>That calm seems certainly safe to last tonight.”</i></p>
<p>For just a flicker of time, for the briefest moment, I wasn’t in Los Angeles. I was in my brother’s room in the dead of night, listening to him recite one of his favorite poems, curled on his lap and settled beneath his bedroom window. He’d always recite <i>Robert Frost</i> to me, and even when I didn’t understand the words, I could understand the meaning.</p>
<p>His recitation was steadfast reassurance to me, just as the stars and soliloquies were to Jude. </p>
<p>Now, though, I heard the meaning woven into the words he recited constantly. Years later, I could still find the same comfort from my brother even when he wasn’t with me anymore. </p>
<p>
  <i>“Take life as it comes at you. Take all the good you can because, though it may be gone the next instant, there’s no need to worry yourself with the darkness you may never see.”</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday, beautiful souls!</p>
<p>I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. This is one of my favorite episodes of S3, so hopefully this chapter and the next will do it justice. Don't worry, I know you guys are eager for the rest of the team finding out about Connor, and I promise it's in the near future! How are we feeling about Connor? About Hotch's plan to help Aria? I can't wait to hear your thoughts! </p>
<p>The poem at the end of the chapter is <i>On Looking Up by Chance at the Constellations</i> by Robert Frost. The poem is one of my favorites by him, and hopefully it'll put a smile on your face and help ease the bad thoughts or rough days that you might come across this week. </p>
<p>Thanks so much for being so sweet with your comments, you guys made this week much better than the last! Hopefully this chapter will do the same for you! Thank you for the love and support you give each week. I'm really looking forward to hearing fro you guys! </p>
<p>❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Healing Process</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x10 - True Night</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>IN PSYCHOTIC BREAK -- MAY BE CONFUSED<br/>May be exper… </i>
</p>
<p>The line of words after that hastily-scribbled information was nothing but swirls and scratches, near-illegible and so uneven it ran down half the whiteboard at a slant. JJ watched, amused, as I huffed and tossed down the files I’d grabbed from the conference room, opting instead for the eraser.</p>
<p>“I distinctly remember banning Reid from using the markers,” I noted, starting to re-write the information so that it could actually be understood. Whether medical or scholarly, bad handwriting seemed to be a constant trend with doctors. </p>
<p>“I tried to stop him. He assaulted me with knowledge until I gave in and let him at it,” she apologized; when I looked back at her, amused, she told me, “did you know the whiteboard was accidentally created after a photographer accidentally marked a photographic negative with a marker?”</p>
<p>The snort couldn’t be helped. I could <i>hear</i> Reid reciting that. Maybe I’d ask him about that later. Actually, speaking of the scruffy doctor… I glanced around the station and then back to JJ. “Where <i>is</i> Reid? Or, like, the entire rest of the team?”</p>
<p>“They’re at the new crime scene, that gang leader’s house. I figured you’d rather man the tip line than tour the aptly named <i>blood-bath manor</i>,” she explained, eyeing the bowl of oatmeal on the desk beside the board. Right she was. Unlike the others, I couldn’t afford skipping meals, and if the scene was half as bad as the officers on-scene had described it… I repressed a shudder. </p>
<p>“My squeamish self thanks you,” I smiled, getting a grin out of her. She went to reply but was cut off by the ringing of the phone at her desk. She held up a finger and answered, </p>
<p>“LAPD tip line…”</p>
<p>As JJ spoke with someone who hopefully had an idea of who we were looking for, I finished rewriting the board. With each sentence I wrote out – the words exactly what I’d told Reid this earlier in the morning – my mind kept wandering to the crime scene the day before. </p>
<p>
  <i>May be experiencing hallucinations (visual and auditory)</i><br/>Is delusional, mood – congruent decisions?<br/>Delusions coincide with traumatic episode
</p>
<p>My hand paused, and my eyes fell to the files I’d tossed down. Lying on top was one of the pictures Emily had taken the day before. Sure enough, Emily had managed to catch Rossi and I talking with Jon McHale. Even in the image – dozens of feet away, a little blurry – I could see the defensiveness in his body language. Shoulders hunched in, hands held to his chest, chin tucked towards his chest… and the look in his eyes. </p>
<p>He hadn’t just looked roughed up, he’d looked scared. </p>
<p><i>Traumatized</i>. </p>
<p>Like he’d been running from something. Running from traumatic delusions? Rossi, thankfully, had witnessed the poor, terrified man with me, and between he and Penelope, we were slowly gathering information on the mysterious man. </p>
<p>As I finished up the notes on the board, my cell phone started buzzing, Penelope’s name lighting up my screen. The moment I answered, before I could even speak, she lamented, “this just <i>can’t</i> be the right guy!”</p>
<p>“Pen,” I chided gently, stopping her train of denial before it could pull out of the station. “What’ve you got for me?”</p>
<p>“<i>Well</i>,” she huffed, drawing herself back and clicking away at her computer. “Our poor Jonny has had the shortest end of the shortest stick for almost nine months now. Get this – in May, he was in the hospital with life-threatening injuries. I’m talking the guy almost <i>died</i>.”</p>
<p>I propped myself on the desk as I lifted the picture, studying it further as I pressed, “why? What happened?”</p>
<p>“Working on that, medical records take a smidge longer to unseal than the rest,” she reported; I chuckled to myself.</p>
<p>“Right. When Internal Affairs interrogate me about you and your dastardly deeds, I’ll pretend I never heard that.”</p>
<p>“That’s all I ask of you, sweet little gumdrop. I’ll call you when I have more.”</p>
<p>As she hung up, I glanced at the board, and then back at the picture. Was it possible that whatever put Jon in the hospital had triggered a psychotic break? If it was traumatic enough, that was a sure-fire <i>yes</i>. </p>
<p>“Excuse me, Agents?” the officer that paused beside the desk I was on glanced between JJ and I. Before I could correct that I actually <i>wasn’t</i> an agent, JJ – still on the phone – nodded towards me before turning back around. </p>
<p>“What can I help you with?” I asked him, setting the photo aside and getting to my feet; he jerked his head towards the lobby of the station. </p>
<p>“There are some people out front that I think you need to talk with. Says they were attacked by some guy they thought they’d hit and killed just a block from the crime scene.”</p>
<p>“Right. I can –“ his words processed and I paused, blinking and staring up at him. “I’m sorry. <i>What</i>?”</p>
<p>He nodded and motioned for me to follow him. “Like I said, you’re gonna wanna talk to them.”</p>
<p>Yeah, no doubt about that. </p>
<p>I hurried after the officer, mind going a hundred miles a minute as I went through what he’d said. As we stepped into the lobby the officer swept his hand out towards a couple sitting along the far wall before he skirted back inside. </p>
<p>So… how did I do this? I’d never interviewed anyone before, let alone talked to a witness – or, okay <i>anyone</i> on a case – by myself. If JJ had let me talk to the officer, though, she had to be okay with me doing what he asked, right?</p>
<p>We were going with it. </p>
<p>“Hi, I’m Miss DiMaggio. I’m with the FBI,” I introduced, holding out my hand as the couple stood and approached me. The woman shook my hand and then stepped aside. The man, in a neck brace, gave me a small smile as he took my hand as well. </p>
<p>“I’m Jasper Lindstrom, and this is my wife Jean. We heard you might be looking for the guy that attacked us yesterday.”</p>
<p>“We could be,” I agreed, leading them into the station. “Can you tell me what happened? The officer said you thought you’d hit and killed someone?”</p>
<p>Mrs. Lindstrom sighed heavily as she explained, “we were on our way to lunch, going down a side street. We weren’t even speeding –“</p>
<p>“We have witnesses to confirm it,” her husband added quickly. I glanced back and gave them a nod; I wasn’t here to pin reckless driving on anyone. <i>I’m the LAST person to get on someone about how they drive…</i></p>
<p>“This guy, he just ran right out in front of us. No warning or anything. I hit the brakes but I couldn’t stop in time. He rolled up onto the hood of the car and then hit the ground, and I just – I thought I’d killed him,” she rushed out, and as we reached my desk I saw the photo on my desk again. Instantly my mind went right back to yesterday. </p>
<p>I’d passively noted Jon had looked like he’d gotten thrown down the stairs, but with his torn and bloodied clothes, the scrapes on his face and legs… maybe he’d been hit by a car.</p>
<p>“Did you hurt yourself in the collision?” I prompted Mr. Lindstrom, motioning for he and his wife to take a seat at the desk. He went to shake his head and winced at the movement. </p>
<p>“No, that’s the crazy thing. So, we get out of the car, we’re panicking, I shake this kid to see if he’s even still alive, and he just – he tries to strangle me.”</p>
<p>At the look on my face, Mrs. Lindstrom nodded and said incredulously, “he grabbed Jasper by the throat and he just – he was crushing him. The doctor said he grabbed him hard enough to fracture some bone –“</p>
<p>“The hyoid bone. It’s a common injury in strangulation,” I finished, and they both nodded up at me, surprised I knew what they’d been talking about. <i>Thank you, Dr. Reid.</i> “Do you happen to remember what he looked like? Any details at all would help.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah. He uh, he had dark hair, blue eyes…” Mr. Lindstrom began, pausing to think back. “He was definitely on the shorter side, and –“</p>
<p>“Oh my god!” Both of us – JJ included – whipped around at Mrs. Lindstrom’s exclamation. She tapped my desk sharply and said in disbelief, “this is him! This is the man that attacked us!”</p>
<p>The picture of Jon at the crime scene. JJ and I shared a look and she scrambled to get the person off her phone as I dug through the file beside it. </p>
<p>I pulled out a headshot of Jon that Penelope had faxed over and held it out. </p>
<p>“This is Jon McHale. Is this who you hit?” She and her husband exchanged a heavy look and my heart skipped a beat.</p>
<p>“That’s him,” Mr. Lindstrom confirmed. JJ had just hung up when one of the officers at the desk a few feet away leaned over. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, did you say Jon McHale?” when I nodded, he held up the phone in his hand. “I have his agent on the phone right now. Called and said he’s been acting erratic the last few days and he’s worried about him.”</p>
<p>JJ instantly stood and took the phone, glancing back at me. “Aria, call Hotch. I think we need to bring Mr. McHale in.” </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Reid fought off the inevitable smile creeping onto his face while he studied the whiteboard. His fingers twitched towards the markers and I playfully swatted them back down. When he went to do it again, I snagged the pictures that he had brought back from the crime scene and pushed them into his arms, nudging him towards the corkboard instead.  </p>
<p>“You and your chicken scratch keep away from my pristine notes,” I teased, giving him a look as I went back to sorting through the notes Penelope had sent us on our current prime suspect.</p>
<p>JJ had gotten Jon’s agent to come give a statement, and now that we’d begun following the comic book artist as a lead, we’d found more and more people who had things to say about him. Half the desks were filled with witnesses who’d seen Jon acting anything but himself yesterday. </p>
<p>Reid and I had been tasked with piecing together the profile with Jon in mind until the others could regroup with us. With the two of us, though, it was unsurprisingly breaking down into a knowledge session. </p>
<p>“Did you know that, though many just judge handwriting on neatness, you can really tell more about someone’s personality based on the spacing and letter-shapes, regardless of the type of penmanship they have.”</p>
<p>Before I realized it, Reid had snaked the marker out of my hand. How had he even done that?! He leaned down and scrawled <i>Spencer</i> in his usual messy writing, then handed the pen to me. Taking the hint, I wrote out <i>Aria</i>. </p>
<p>“See, my letters are slanted slightly to the left and closer together. In a right-handed individual, backwards slanting can indicate someone who’s more withdrawn. Paired with the tighter looping on my <i>P</i> and the wider spacing of my letters, it could be deduced quickly that between the two of us, I prefer to keep to myself and I have a more restricted personality.”</p>
<p>When. Didn’t reply at first, Reid turned back to me and blinked, prompting a reply. The depths of this man’s knowledge never ceased to amaze me. How did he just <i>know</i> these things?! At this rate I’d just drop out of college and let Reid teach me whatever I needed to know. Most days I felt like I learned more from him than I had in all sixteen years of school. </p>
<p>“You can get all that from seven letters?” I asked, staring up at him with what I hoped was <i>mild</i> admiration. I didn’t need to go full <i>Aria’s-Smitten-With-You</i> right now. Well, more than I usually ended up doing…</p>
<p>Quirking his usual smile at me, he tapped my name with the marker and elaborated, “I can, in fact. Now see, your letters are larger and a little tighter together. You’re more outgoing and outspoken, and prefer being around others compared to being alone. The fact that you curve your capital <i>A</i> tells me you’re a gentle person overall, but the angle of your <i>I</i> into the last <i>A</i> shows you have a sharper attitude.”</p>
<p>“You’re just telling me what you already know about me, and trying to excuse your absolutely terrible penmanship,” I scoffed, taking the marker back. He actually looked affronted as he gave an incredulous laugh and made for the marker again. </p>
<p>“What? I am not! This is basic graphology!” </p>
<p>Just wanting to <i>mildly</i> irk him, I gave him a puzzled look and told him, “what? This is <i>handwriting</i>, Reid. We’re not making <i>graphs</i>.”</p>
<p>For a moment I think his brain actually short-circuited as he stared down at me, calculating what I’d just told him. </p>
<p>“I – <i>no</i>! It’s – it’s the study of handwriting, I’m not –“ I gave a cheeky grin and his face fell into a deadpan frown when he realized I was messing with him. “You know, I’m starting to understand why Morgan feels the need to harass you all the time.”</p>
<p>“I’ll remember that the next time you need help fixing you ringtone the next time he messes with it.”</p>
<p>Reid gave me a playful grin that instantly started my heart melting, but before I could get totally lost to the adorable dork at my side, we heard the doors to the station opening. Morgan came in first, leading Jon after him. Rossi brought up the rear; both he and Morgan had a tight grip on Jon’s arms. </p>
<p>The rest of the precinct fell quiet as the three of them made their way towards the interrogation room. Jon looked frazzled, for lack of better word. His head was pivoting wildly between all the faces he clearly recognized, panic and betrayal spiking over his rough features. His bloodshot, shadowed eyes darted around in desperation, and to my surprise, they landed on me and widened with recognition. </p>
<p>Jon paused so suddenly he nearly made Rossi stumble. “You – you’re Aria, right?” As soon as I nodded, he turned started my direction. Morgan and Rossi instantly hauled him back and he shouted, “we – I saw you yesterday. You remember me, right? Can you – you gotta help me!”</p>
<p>The raw desperation in his voice pulled at my heart. He was scared, and if he <i>was</i> in the middle of a psychotic break like we thought, he probably had no idea what he’d done, or what he was being dragged in for. </p>
<p>He was terrified and looking for any sort of familiarity in the midst of the chaos roaring around him. I took a step towards him on instinct; Reid’s hand caught mine and he tugged me back to his side as Rossi and Morgan got Jon walking again. </p>
<p>The whole way to the room, he kept his head turned to me, his tear-filled eyes blinking desperately at me until the door to the interrogation room shut on the three of them. Reid turned to me instantly. </p>
<p>“Why does he know you?” he asked, his warm, chocolate eyes flickering between my own worriedly. </p>
<p>“He was at the scene yesterday,” I told him, grabbing the picture off the desk and holding it up to him. Reid studied it with a frown as I elaborated, “Rossi and I only spoke to him for a couple of minutes, tops.”</p>
<p>JJ came around the desks to stand with us, watching the door like Reid and I were as we listened to Jon’s shouts grow louder. She glanced at the photo and pointed out, “why is he panicking with Rossi, then? He was there with you, too.”</p>
<p>“In the middle of a break like this, he’s not fully cognizant of everything around him. Rossi talked with him too, but I was right beside him. I’m probably more cemented in his mind,” I thought out loud as I crossed my arms, glancing up at her. Reid bobbed his head in agreement as the door finally opened and Morgan and Rossi re-emerged.</p>
<p>“How is he?” JJ asked them as soon as they reached us; we got tight-lipped frowns from both of them. </p>
<p>“He’s got no idea why he’s here or what’s going on,” Rossi reported, and briefly his eyes flicked to me. “He’s asking to speak with Aria.”</p>
<p>“I wish I could,” I lamented, glancing back at the door again; we could still hear Jon shouting. </p>
<p>“I think you <i>should</i>,” Morgan declared, surprising not just myself, but Reid and JJ as well. Rossi was clearly on the same page, but I couldn’t actually believe I’d heard him right. At the open-mouthed blinking I was giving him, Morgan continued, “he recognizes you in the middle of a psychotic break. You’ve got that rapport that none of us can get with him right now, and with your psych background, he might open up without lashin’ out like he was with Rossi and I.”</p>
<p>Before I could even voice <i>one</i> of the numerous issues with that suggestion, Reid argued, “Morgan, that’s incredibly unsafe. He’s extremely unstable right now and there’s no telling how he’ll react, even <i>with</i> knowing Aria.”</p>
<p>Morgan opened his mouth to counter his point and JJ added, “it’s really not a good idea. If anything were to happen –“</p>
<p>“<i>Nothin’s</i> gonna happen. I’d be in there with you the whole time, and if you needed to stop I’d get you out of there instantly,” he promised, and stepped a little closer to rest a hand on my shoulder, voice softening as he said, “I think you really have a chance to get through to him, sunshine.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I haven’t even <i>started</i> the interrogation courses, let alone finished all the ones I’m in now just for basic profiling. I don’t know the first thing about interviewing an UnSub –“</p>
<p>Morgan shook his head and explained simply, “I’m not askin’ you to interrogate him. I just want you to talk to him.”</p>
<p>“At the very least, you might be able to get him calm enough so one of <i>us</i> can interrogate him further,” Rossi added; I didn’t miss the frown JJ threw him as she crossed her arms. She was ready to jump back into it, but Reid spoke up before she could. </p>
<p>“Aria, what do <i>you</i> want to do?”</p>
<p>The other three turned to stare down at me and I blanched under the attention, blinking back at them, totally flustered. <i>Gut instincts, right</i>? I thought to myself, taking a breath as I looked between the four of them. “If there’s any chance I could help… I’d like to at least try.”</p>
<p>Morgan squeezed my shoulder as Rossi gave a nod in agreement. JJ didn’t look happy, but instead of snapping at me, she turned her sharp gaze to Morgan. “Stay with her the whole time. <i>Right</i> next to her.”</p>
<p>“I will,” he promised, motioning for me to follow him to the room. Reid caught my eye as he stepped aside, giving me a smile of encouragement. </p>
<p>“<i>In bocca al lupo,</i>” he said in passing. I glanced back to him and smiled as I replied,</p>
<p>“<i>Spasibo.</i>”</p>
<p>Once we were out of Reid’s earshot Morgan chuckled and told me quietly, “you two are the only ones I know who’d seriously get to flirtin’ <i>Rosetta Stone</i> style.”</p>
<p>“I don’t – it’s not <i>flirting</i>,” I mumbled, cheeks instantly heating up. The look he gave me assured that’d sounded just as unconvincing as it’d felt. At the door the detective standing by nodded to us and stepped aside. </p>
<p>As he reached for the door handle, Morgan held up a finger and then turned to me. </p>
<p>“Lemme see your gun.” Slowly, I unholstered it and held it out to him. He took it, unholstered his, and then held them both out to the detective. He’d be keeping them out of the room, just in case. </p>
<p>Nerves fluttered in my stomach. I knew it was as much for Jon’s safety as it was for ours, but still… Morgan nodded and the detective pulled the door open for us; at his sign, I led us in. At the sound of the door opening, Jon twisted around in his seat as best he could with one hand cuffed to the underside of the table. </p>
<p>“It’s Aria, right? I was right?” he asked me as I came around to sit across from him. Morgan followed me, pausing behind the chair, but Jon didn’t even look up at him. </p>
<p>The poor guy looked terrified and confused. His wide, blue eyes were bloodshot and I could see the tearstains on his cheeks. He really had no idea what was going on. </p>
<p>“Yeah, you’re right,” I assured, folding my hands on the table in front of me and leaning a little closer. “And you’re Jon?” </p>
<p>He gave a sharp nod and then corrected, “Jonny. Call me Jonny.” </p>
<p>“Hey Jonny,” I smiled; in the midst of all the panic he was drowning in, he offered me a small one in return. “Agent Morgan said you wanted to talk to me –“</p>
<p>“Yeah, yes. Look, I -  I haven’t done anything, okay? And – and no one’s listening to me. No one listens. You just, you’ve <i>gotta</i> believe me,” he urged, leaning towards me, cuffs jangling as he motioned with his hands. “There’s been a big mistake! I’m not a bad guy and I just need you to listen to me –”</p>
<p>“Hey, I head you,” I cut in gently, comforting him as best I could without agreeing that he was innocent, one of the techniques Rossi had outlined in a couple of his books. Not that I was reading them or anything… “I want to help get this figured out. I know you’re not a bad guy. You’re an artist, right?” </p>
<p>He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and said a little softer, “yeah I – I just draw comic books.” As quick as he’d settled, though, he instantly fell into alarm again and he slumped back, smacking the table with his palm and getting a start out of me. “That guy out there, Bobby, I fired him.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I heard him mention that. I know he was working for you for a long time. Is there a reason you –“</p>
<p>“He’s probably just mad at me, Aria, that’s it. That’s all this is, it’s just a misunderstanding. He’s just mad –“ </p>
<p>One of my hands rested gently on his free one, mostly to keep him from hitting the table again like he was trying to do. “He’s not mad at you at all, Jonny.” </p>
<p>He frowned at that, hand stilling momentarily as he took in what I’d said. His psychosis was at war, his mind processing what I’d said while his paranoia insisted I was wrong; the paranoia won out. “What? Why is he here then? Is he saying I did something? Because I didn’t do anything!” </p>
<p>I heard Morgan’s phone buzz, and then a moment later his fingers brushed my shoulder. Time to pause the unofficial interrogation. “Hey, I hear you. And like I said, we’re gonna get this straightened out. Can you hang tight for me for a few? I’ll be right back –” </p>
<p>“No, please don’t – don’t leave me here,” he panicked, pulling his hand out from under mine to motion wildly around him, vaguely pointing to Morgan as I stood up and we started around the table. “No one’s listening to me, and they’re gonna try and say I did something. I <i>didn’t</i>, and you’re the only one who’s listening. Aria, please don’t leave –“ </p>
<p>As I paused next to him I gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be back to listen to you, okay? I promise. I’ll be right back.” </p>
<p>He still didn’t look happy, but finally Jonny gave a nod and fell quiet as I skirted past him and out the door. Apparently, the text had been to say that the rest of the team had returned. I nearly collided with Hotch as I stepped out of the room. </p>
<p>Based on the expression he had fixed over my head at Morgan, it was safe to assume he’d been told about my not-interrogation, and he wasn’t too happy with it. Ever the professional, he had the wherewithal to lead back to the desks – somewhat private from the rest of the station – before he turned and folded his arms menacingly over his chest. </p>
<p>“She has rapport with him, and he’s actually somewhat put together talkin’ with her,” Morgan started before Hotch could. Our steel-faced leader tightened the fold of his arms. “If we want any change at gettin’ through to this guy, she’s our best bet.”</p>
<p>Hotch shook his head instantly. “All safety concerns aside, she’s not prepared for an interrogation –“</p>
<p>“It’s not an interrogation. We’re just talking,” I offered, which only served to somehow deepen Hotch’s already unyielding frown. I could tell he was moments from banning me from the interview room, and I wasn’t ready to stop trying. Especially not after promising Jonny I’d come back. “I keep getting told to trust my instincts, right?”</p>
<p>Slowly, Hotch nodded.</p>
<p>“Well, right now everything’s telling me this is what I should do,” I said softly, nodding back towards the room. “I feel perfectly safe, and I think Morgan’s right. I think he’s more at ease with me, and if I have the chance I think I could really help open him up.”</p>
<p>Hotch sighed, relaxing his rigid posture minutely as he studied my face. “You’re comfortable with speaking with him?” I nodded quickly. “And you’ll speak up if that changes?”</p>
<p>“Is that a yes?” I asked him hopefully; Hotch raised a brow. Oh yeah, answer the question. “Yeah. I will. I promise.”</p>
<p>“Then, it’s a yes,” he relented, not looking completely happy with his response. When I gave him an excited smile and bounce, though, his face softened into something that might pass as the hint of a smile. “Reid and Rossi are going through the evidence we retrieved at McHale’s home. See if you can find anything that might help us get through to him.”</p>
<p>With a swift nod – leaving Morgan to deal with the wake of Hotch’s irritation – I scampered over to the table that Reid and a dozen boxes were gathered at. He looked up at my approach and smiled, scooting aside to make room for me. </p>
<p>“There’s no doubt we have the right guy,” he told me, nudging an open box towards me. I peeked in and sucked in a breath of surprise. Dozens of drawing were packed inside, and sitting right on top was the artist rendering of the crime scene we’d looked over yesterday – severed limbs and all. Rossi slid a photo my way, and I looked between it and the drawing. </p>
<p>The only difference between the two was that one was drawn; they were identical, right down to the unnatural, twisted angles of how the bodies were dumped in the alley. The only way Jonny would’ve known this is if he’d been the one to lay them out. </p>
<p>“Now, the only question is <i>why</i>,” Rossi sighed, coming over and plopping another box down. Before I could even assure that we had North America’s best and brightest hacker on the case, the digital beauty’s name popped on my screen.</p>
<p><i>Everyone on this team are secretly mind readers,</i> I declared to myself as I flipped my phone open and sat it on speaker in the middle of my table. “Hey, Penny G. You’ve got Reid, Rossi, and I.”</p>
<p>“And <i>you’ve</i> got a beautiful tech analyst with an UnSub’s tragic backstory,” she quipped before giving a heavy sigh. “When the universe dealt out crummy luck, she went extra heavy on Jonny McHale’s dose.”</p>
<p>“What’d you find?” Reid asked her, passing me a couple more pictures. One was what I assumed had to have been <i>blood-bath manor</i>. The name was disturbingly accurate; I shared a grimace with Reid. </p>
<p>There was a flurry of clicks and clacks, and then Penelope reported sadly, “I finally managed to get his medical files. Turns out, our ghastly craftsman got sliced up by some local gang members. He was nearly dead by the time they got him to the hospital.”</p>
<p>Something told me it wasn’t a coincidence, then, that the latest scene had been a gang leader’s house. Reid was on the same brainwave, of course, and he shuffled through the layer of files and evidence until he produced a picture of the most recent victim. </p>
<p>“It wouldn’t happen to be related to the 23rd Street Killers’ gang, would it?”</p>
<p>“TSK, you’ve got it, Doc. I mean, officially, it was reported that the attackers were unknown. Apparently Jonny said he couldn’t remember who had done it, but a lot of other reports at the time on TSK had the same exact MO. It wasn’t a stretch to figure out who did it, but…”</p>
<p>“But because he couldn’t identify them, they couldn’t be held accountable,” I finished, shaking my head as I flipped through more of Jonny’s work. As much as I respected my ideal career choice, things within law enforcement and the justice system weren’t always in favor of the victim. </p>
<p>“Exactly. Now, here’s where it gets even worse,” Penelope warned; I glanced to Rossi and Reid in surprise. What, being hacked up by gang members wasn’t bad enough? “Jonny wasn’t the only one brought in that night. His long-time girlfriend Vickie Wright was found at the scene with him. She was still alive when paramedics got there, but she died before they reached the hospital. There was signs of torture, and apparently there was also signs of… you know.”</p>
<p>Yeah, unfortunately I did. My heart sunk into my stomach and I slowly sat the papers down. I didn’t need Reid to tell me the statistics on sexual assault or the correlation between that and violent gangs. It didn’t take a profiler to know why Jonny had gotten hurt; without a doubt, he would’ve done anything to protect his girlfriend.</p>
<p>Sadly, it seemed, it hadn’t been enough.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Pen,” I sighed, sharing a heavy look with the other two as she hung up the call. I definitely <i>had</i> found something to help with talking to Jonny, I just… really wished I hadn’t. Because even with knowing what he’d done, and knowing how many people were dead because of him, there was a part of me that really couldn’t blame him. If someone I loved had been tortured and raped in front of me, and they’d gotten away with it… who’s to say that it wouldn’t drive <i>me</i> to a psychotic break?</p>
<p>“Sometimes what an UnSub does actually makes sense, moral alignment aside,” Reid said quietly; when I looked up, I saw his gaze was already on me. Clearly, he’d read the not-at-all disguised look of empathy and frustration brewing on my face. </p>
<p>“Is it wrong to say that I almost kind of support the vigilante justice?” Realizing that wasn’t the best thing for a member of the FBI to have said, I backtracked quickly, “I mean, not that I condone what he’s done or think murder’s the answer, I just…”</p>
<p>“You feel the pain he’s felt for months and can sympathize with the end result,” Rossi shrugged, bumping my arm with his own. “Understanding an UnSub’s grief makes you a good profiler, not an apologist.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for making me feel less crazy,” I told them, offering a small smile to both as I started to gather the papers we’d been going through. Unfortunately, all the support in the world wasn’t gonna make the next conversation with Jonny any easier. </p>
<p>As I passed by to go grab Hotch and fill him in, Reid caught my eye. I paused at his side and he offered up, “<i>Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant</i>?”</p>
<p>“Henry David Thoreau?” I asked him in surprise, a smile tugging at my lips. He nodded quickly, looking pleased I’d known that. </p>
<p>“Even though this won’t be a happy ending for him… I think it’ll really help that you understand what he’s feeling. There’s little that’s more comforting in times of personal distress than having someone genuinely and whole-heartedly acknowledge what they’re going through.”</p>
<p>Seriously, how could Reid look me in the eyes and tell me he was no good at understanding people’s feelings? I hadn’t said a word and he’d somehow managed to pinpoint the turmoil my emotions were in, and he’d reassured the nagging doubts in the back of my mind. </p>
<p>Mind readers. The lot of them. </p>
<p>“Thanks, Scruffy,” I said softly, reaching out and giving his hand a small, appreciative squeeze before I continued on my way. The angst was still with me, but his words of comfort helped ease some of the weight resting on my heart. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Hotch, Emily, and I shared a look outside the interview room. We’d gone over the strategy twice, and though I <i>knew</i> it was the best way to approach the situation, I still felt bad for Jonny. Hotch – knowing the look on my face – gave me a solemn nod in assurance. </p>
<p>This had to happen. This would help Jonny. </p>
<p>At my returning nod, Hotch opened the door. Jonny instantly turned again, and this time he <i>did</i> take notice of the others with me. He frowned, eyes flicking over the detective, Hotch, and Emily as they gathered around the table. As discussed, I paused at Jonny’s side instead of sitting across from him and he lifted his wary gaze to me. </p>
<p>“Do they all have to be here?” he hedged, sparing a glance at Hotch, who’d parked himself directly at my shoulder. When I nodded, Jonny tensed and I assured quickly, </p>
<p>“It’s alright. They’re here to help you, just like I am. We’re all gonna listen to you.” Jonny held my stare, completely unblinking, for several long seconds.</p>
<p>Only once he gave me a single nod of agreement did I hitch my hip up onto the table and set down the photo I’d carried in. Jonny’s eyes fell to study the face I slid his way. </p>
<p>“Do you recognize him?” I asked; Jonny’s brow furrowed and he slowly shook his head. “This is Glen Hill. He’s missing.”</p>
<p>Now his troubled blue eyes flicked up to me; he’d caught the implication in my voice. “What does he have to do with this? <i>Should</i> I know him?”</p>
<p>“Six months ago, he and his gang victimized you and your girlfriend, right?” the detective cut in, tone a lot more condescending than I liked. Jonny and I both turned to frown at him and almost instantly I felt a tap against my knee. </p>
<p>Hotch shot me his <i>tone down the attitude</i> look he seemed to give me a lot. Apparently, he seemed to think I was feisty. Well, <i>sassy</i> had been the word he’d used when he’d heard me snarking off to Rossi about trying to be smarter than the copy machine. <i>Not my fault a world-renowned FBI profiler got bested by the printer multiple times a week.</i></p>
<p>“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jonny denied instantly. The honesty in his voice pulled me back to the here-and-now when I realized that, sure enough, he really <i>didn’t</i> have a clue what’d been going on. He wasn’t like the other UnSub’s that tried to deny the crime. He genuinely didn’t know a thing about what he’d done. </p>
<p>“They attacked you on the street, and you couldn’t identify any of them after you got out of the hospital,” Emily followed up; Jonny’s eyes snapped from the detective, across to her, and then over to me. It didn’t give me any comfort knowing that Hotch had been right about the plan. Throwing Jonny off-balance would be the best way to break through the psychosis, but it was gonna be a rough ride for the poor guy. </p>
<p>“What? No, I was never in the hospital –“</p>
<p>Hotch passed me another picture and I sat it in front of Jonny. He stared at the image of himself lying in a hospital bed. “The wound to your stomach was so severe you almost bled out before they could get you into surgery.”</p>
<p>Jonny’s free hand flitted uncertainly to his stomach, but he quickly shook his head, panic beginning to rise. “That’s – that’s not me. I wasn’t in the hospital, Aria. That’s not me.”</p>
<p>“Jonny,” I soothed, hand resting on his arm. Though I could feel him trembling, he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself at my touch. “I think you’re suffering from a post-traumatic form of a psychotic break.”</p>
<p>“I – <i>what</i>? Psychotic? I’m not –“</p>
<p>“You have been for weeks,” Hotch insisted; Jonny twisted to stare wide-eyed up at him, cuffed hand twitching against the restraint. “It’s possible you don’t even know.”</p>
<p>“Oh come <i>on</i>, that’s ridiculous. How could I not know?” Emily and I shared a nod and she pulled out a picture from the box of evidence she’d brought in with us, pushing it in front of him. Jonny’s frown deepened, and he looked between Emily and I. “This is just a page from something I’m working on.”</p>
<p>“I know. But Jonny, I need you to look at this, okay?” I urged as Emily sat down the photo of the crime scene. He did as I asked, looking between the picture and his artwork. </p>
<p>“This… that’s real?” he breathed. There it was. For just a brief, fleeting moment, there was a flash of clarity in his eyes. He saw the correlation, and a part of him was connecting the dots. Almost as quick as it’d happened it disappeared again. “This is ridiculous. This didn’t actually happen –“</p>
<p>“You were at the crime scene yesterday. That’s where you saw me, remember?” I reminded him gently. Again, he tugged against the restraint as he turned himself completely to stare at me in disbelief.  </p>
<p>“What? No, no. <i>No.</i> Yesterday I was doing a meet and greet. You were at the comic store –“ </p>
<p>“No, Jonny, it was the crime scene,” Emily insisted, now setting down the same photo I’d been looking at all morning. Jonny beside Rossi and I, the yellow <i>DO NOT CROSS</i> crime scene tape in front of us. This time, he reached up and shoved the picture away. </p>
<p>Hotch nodded to Emily again, and now she pulled out more pictures of the latest crime scene. “This is Glen Hill’s house. He’s the leader of the 23rd Street Killers, the gang that assaulted you and your girlfriend. Six members were found dead inside.”</p>
<p>He whipped back around to glare at Emily, and then again he turned back to me desperately. “Aria, please listen to me. I don’t know what’s going on, okay? I didn’t – I have nothing to do with any of this. I don’t know some <i>gang</i>, I’m not – I don’t just go to crime scenes –“</p>
<p>“Look at this,” I prompted again, taking another drawing from Emily. Jonny hesitated a moment, but when I tapped the page he glanced down reluctantly. “This was on your drawing board when you were arrested earlier. This is exactly like the house the bodies were found in, Jonny.”</p>
<p>“No, no. This can’t be. It doesn’t make any sense,” he denied. </p>
<p>“You were at the house last night,” Hotch insisted; Jonny shot a glare at him over my shoulder. “There was a trail of blood leading out the back door. We believe that you took Mr. Hill with you when you left.”</p>
<p>Jonny again shoved the pictures and photos away, jerking back in his seat and irritably tugging at the handcuff; Hotch’s hand brushed my leg again in warning, and I shifted back just a hint. “You guys are crazy, These are just <i>drawings</i>, It’s just my imagination –“</p>
<p>“Severe PTSD isn’t uncommon for victims of violent crimes, like the one that happened to you and your girlfriend,” I explained. Jonny glanced at me, but now he couldn’t hold my stare. He kept looking between those of us around him, the pictures, and then his cuffed hand. </p>
<p>He was starting to slip. </p>
<p>“I wasn’t there,” he insisted through gritted teeth. The detective came up on Jonny’s other side and pulled his arm back to reveal a stain of blood against his ribs. </p>
<p>“Yeah? You notice you’re bleeding?” he pointed out; Jonny looked down. </p>
<p>“That looks like a grazing gunshot wound,” Emily threw out; Jonny looked back up to her. </p>
<p>“Did they shoot you last night?” Hotch pressed; Jonny whipped around to look at him. His head kept swiveling and he’d started to breathe harder, panic beginning to set in. He was right on the edge, ready to fall over completely into his devolvement.</p>
<p>“Look, just <i>stop it</i>. I would know if I’d been shot –“</p>
<p>Emily slid the pictures on the table back at him, pointing to the one of him in the hospital. “Really? Because you don’t seem to recall being sliced open.”</p>
<p>Another flicker of clarity, and this time it lasted several more seconds before he was shaking his head furiously. “I <i>wasn’t</i> –“</p>
<p>The detective tugged up his shirt, showing the scar that ran along his abdomen. “They cut you open, Mr. McHale. You were nearly eviscerated. They said it was a miracle you lived –“</p>
<p>“<i>Miracle</i>?” he snarled, surging in his seat towards the detective. “You think living was a miracle?!”</p>
<p>Hotch gave Emily a final nod; time for the endgame. She pulled out the last drawing and slapped it down in front of him. His eyes flitted in panic over the headless, bloodied creature sketched on the page. “All of your drawings show the crime scenes from the last several weeks. All but this one.”</p>
<p>Jonny’s breath was coming in ragged gasps; he struggled in his seat, cuffs jangling, eyes sweeping over the four of us relentlessly. Hotch motioned for us to start in. </p>
<p>“Where’s this crime scene, Jonny?” I asked, and before he could answer, before he could even fully look to me, Hotch pressed, </p>
<p>“Is this Glen Hill? Did you kill him?”</p>
<p>Jonny shook his head, struggling harder in his seat. </p>
<p>“Where is he?” Emily demanded; the detective leaned over Jonny and snapped, </p>
<p>“Where is Glen Hill, Mr. McHale –“</p>
<p>“<i>NO</i>!” Jonny snarled; wood splintering was the only warning we had. In a heartbeat, Jonny had ripped the handcuffs straight off the bottom of the table and surged to his feet. He threw his arms out, knocking both the detective and myself away from him. </p>
<p>Hotch caught me before I even left the table and had me bundled back behind him by the time I’d registered what had happened. He and the detective surged forward and grabbed ahold of the terrified, furious man.</p>
<p>Both of them weren’t strong enough to keep him down. Emily and I surged and grabbed hold of Jonny too, and as soon as we got a grip on his arms, Hotch managed to shove him down over the table. He planted a hand on Jonny’s chest as Em and I held tight, the detective pressing his shoulders against the table as well. </p>
<p>Even with all the restraint, Jonny still struggled against us. “You don’t know what’s out there! No one knows about that night! No one heard us screaming! No one cared!”</p>
<p>“Aria,” Hotch prompted quickly, meeting my eyes before dropping his gaze to the man below us. I pulled one of my hands off his arm and grabbed the side of his face, turning him to look up at me. </p>
<p>“Jonny, listen to me. Listen, we don’t want to hurt you,” I said quickly; he surged up and it took all four of us to push him back down. We almost weren’t a match for his adrenaline-fueled fury. “We know. We know what they did. We hear you, and we care. We want to help you.”</p>
<p>His eyes held my stare and I looked back at him unblinking. <i>I’m listening. I hear you. I see you. I see Vickie. I know what happened</i>, I promised him silently. Tears welled in his eyes, and a sob tore out of his throat. </p>
<p>Jonny slumped beneath us, head falling back to the table as he fell apart under our hold. He turned his face, pressing against my hand as he whispered brokenly, </p>
<p>“<i>I couldn’t help her</i>.” </p>
<p>“You tried. You tried so hard to help,” I said softly. Tears slipped down his face, pooling against the hand I kept to his cheek. My thumb swept over them in an attempt to comfort him.</p>
<p>“They made me watch,” he choked out between sobs. When his eyes finally opened again to stare up at me, the pain in his gaze hit me like a blow to the stomach. The sorrow burning through the tears was incapacitating; tears pricked my <i>own</i> eyes.</p>
<p>“It can help you if you tell us where to find Glen Hill,” Hotch coaxed him, thankfully giving me a chance to catch my breath and push the empathetic emotions back down. “If you can cooperate with us, Jonny, we can help you.”</p>
<p>He blinked up at Hotch, uncomprehending, the pain overtaking him pushing aside everything else. His gaze slid back to me; more tears ran down his cheeks. “No one heard us screaming. No one helped. They made me <i>watch</i>.”</p>
<p>“They’re animals,” I agreed, and he gave a desperate nod. “I know what they did. I know you just wanted to protect Vickie. That’s all you wanted. You’re not a bad person, you were a victim, and no one listened to you.”</p>
<p>He let out a shaky breath as genuine, heartfelt relief poured into his eyes, extinguishing the burning fury. The words he’d been repeating since he’d been brought in began to swirl in my mind, and realization followed right behind. </p>
<p>
  <i>No one’s listening to me. No one listens. No one knows about that night. No one heard us screaming.</i>
</p>
<p>When he hadn’t been able to identify the attackers, who had truly listened to what happened? Who had acknowledged the loss of the person he loved? How many had just passed off the pain and the trauma he’d gone through because he’d physically healed? How many had just dismissed the emotional wounds that were still as fresh as they were the night he lost Vickie? How many times had he been passed over, pushed aside, <i>buried</i> because no one took the time when they couldn’t see the damage that hadn’t ever healed?</p>
<p>No one had cared. No one had heard him. </p>
<p>“I hear you,” I promised him, voice breaking and a tear rolling down my own cheek. “What they did was cruel and unimaginable, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I’m so sorry Vickie had to go through that. I’m so sorry they took her away from you.”</p>
<p>Jonny took a ragged, exhausted breath as shut his eyes tight once again, nodding against my hand, letting the heartbreak and the grief he’d been fighting with for months finally fully take over. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” he murmured, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. My hand gave his face a gentle squeeze and I prompted him one last time, </p>
<p>“Please tell us where Glen Hill is. Let us help you.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Hotch paused at my desk on the way back to his office and offered a smile when I peeked up at him. For what had to be the hundredth time since I left the interrogation room he studied my face as he asked in concern, </p>
<p>“Are you doing alright?”</p>
<p>“I really am,” I promised once again as I finished packing up my things. True, crying at the station had given him full reason to doubt my emotional stability, but I was fully genuine in my answer. “What Jonny went through… we can’t take it back, but I feel like we helped a victim, not just put an UnSub away, you know? And now he can finally start the healing he needs. He’s not alone anymore, and he’s with people who can help him get better.”</p>
<p>“I understand,” Hotch agreed, still looking the tiniest bit concerned though he <i>did</i> seem to relax a hint. He gave a quick glance around us, minding Morgan just a couple dozen feet away as he asked quietly, “the meeting with the judge is set for 8am Monday. Are you sure you still want to go with?”</p>
<p>As much as I was glad to be back – minutes away from a girl’s night and starting off a well-deserved weekend – Connor and the looming case for a permanent protective order was still hanging over me. Hotch had been all but insisting I stay as far from the courtroom next week as possible, but I wasn’t fully on board with that. We’d gone over this the whole flight back. I knew it wasn’t a necessity to be there, that Hotch could present my case himself, but I also didn’t want to sit this one out. I wanted to fight tooth-and-nail with everything I had to get Connor out of my life once and for all.  </p>
<p>“You said it’d help to have me there to answer the judge’s questions myself, right?” I asked, slinging my bag onto my shoulder and turning to look up at him. He gave a tight-lipped nod and I shrugged. “Then yes. Anything that gets this over with. I really don’t think he’s motivated enough to drag himself back out here to harass me, especially knowing I’m taking legal action.”</p>
<p>Besides, as I’d told him, Connor was lazy. Part of me was convinced he’d only actively sought me out because he was in Virginia already. Thanks to my parents, he’d apparently known where I was for months and he hadn’t actually shown up until he had to come out here for his job. He was smart and lazy, a combination that had me all but positive he wouldn’t make another 1,700 mile trip just for a court case. </p>
<p>“Consider it a part of <i>my</i> healing process,” I added quietly. There was a heartbeat of silence and in that moment, the gentle gaze Hotch softened into told me he knew this was something I needed. As much as it would suck if Connor <i>did</i> show up, it would help me get closure with all of this to be there too. </p>
<p>Knowing I wasn’t about to change my stance on this, he sighed and relented, “if you’re truly comfortable with it then I’ll plan to pick you up from Garcia’s at 7:30.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like a plan, bossman,” I teased, getting the flicker of a smile. I caught sight of JJ, Emily, and Penelope gathering in the lobby; Penny motioned eagerly for me to join. “I’m being summoned, so I’ll see you Monday morning. Promise me something, though.”</p>
<p>Hotch raised a brow, watching as I turned back backed for the lobby, smile still on him. “Promise you’ll actually leave this place between now and then.”</p>
<p>“Good luck. I’ve been barkin’ up that tree for years now,” Morgan chuckled as I passed his desk. “Reid and I will try and wrangle him with us when we head out.”</p>
<p>“What am I doing?” Reid asked as he returned from the break area with what had to be his tenth cup of coffee today. Well, tenth cup of sugar in a small amount of liquid. I pointed to Hotch as I paused beside Reid. </p>
<p>“You’re helping make sure this workaholic bear leaves his cave tonight.” Reid pressed his lips together and glanced at our boss. </p>
<p>“I don’t appreciate being signed up for impossible tasks without my consent,” he told me, giving me what had to be an attempt at a displeased frown. The twitch of a hidden smile took all his seriousness away. </p>
<p>I shrugged my shoulders and teased, “<i>you’re</i> the magician. Stick him in a hat and <i>alakazam</i> him home or something.”</p>
<p>Hotch gave me a deadpan frown. “I’m not a rabbit.”</p>
<p>“You’re right. A rabbit isn’t <i>nearly</i> this stubborn,” I agreed; Reid snorted into his coffee and I gave the boys a cheeky grin. “On that note, I’ll see you guys next week.”</p>
<p>Reid – recovering from choking on his coffee – cleared his throat and looked back to me as I made for the girls. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you down?” he lowered his voice, stepping a bit farther from Morgan to add softly, “the emergency order ended this afternoon. I know Hotch mentioned he has the option to show up for the hearing on Monday, and he could be in town.”</p>
<p>My heart fluttered in my chest at his concern. As much as I wanted to say <i>don’t ever leave my side again</i> and permanently attach myself to him like the fully-smitten puppy I was, I shook my head.</p>
<p>“No, really, I’ll be okay. I’ll be with the toughest chicks this side of the Rocky Mountains, and honestly? I don’t think he’s <i>that</i> committed to harassing me across the country now that I’m going to the court over this.” Reid’s expression didn’t change. He was as bad as Hotch when it came to worrying… okay, not that I really minded one bit, but still. “Showing serious effort to keep the aggressor away is a good deterrent in stalking cases, as the very wise Dr. Reid pointed out to me last week.” </p>
<p>That got a toothy smile out of him, and he ducked his head as he seemed to accept my decision, just like Hotch had. “Alright. As long as you’re sure.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” I told him, holding open my arms and giving him a hopeful smile. Though he didn’t really seem to mind the hugs, I was doing my best not to throw myself at him like I had a habit of doing. Reid stepped up and accepted the offering, squeezing me tightly for a few moments and giving me an excuse to briefly burrow against his sweater vest. </p>
<p>As we pulled back, I caught Morgan smirking at us, and he raised a brow. “What, don’t <i>I</i> get a hug goodbye?”</p>
<p>“No, I’ve got something very special for you,” I said, and then held up both middle fingers as I backed for the lobby. Morgan huffed and instantly went, </p>
<p>“Hotch, workplace harassment!”</p>
<p>“I didn’t see a thing,” Hotch dismissed, still looking directly at me as he fought a smile. Morgan threw his hands up as Reid stifled another snort. </p>
<p>Leaving the men work-obsessed guys to their night of paperwork, I turned and scampered off to the girls. It’d been my mistake thinking they could be more mature than Morgan. All three of them turned to grin devilishly at me as the elevator doors slid shut. </p>
<p>“Reid didn’t give <i>me</i> a hug,” Emily sing-songed; there went the blush I’d been fighting off <i>so</i> well until now. She glanced at the other two. “Did <i>you guys</i> get a hug?”</p>
<p>It was pointless to defend myself against the girls, but I’d go down fighting anyways. “Okay, first of all, you didn’t even ask him for one –“</p>
<p>“I certainly didn’t,” Penelope mused, tapping her chin playfully as she turned to look at JJ. “In fact, I can’t think of a time I’ve <i>ever</i> hugged Reid…”</p>
<p>“You hug Morgan enough to make up for that,” I pointed out; my argument went completely unheard.</p>
<p>“To date, I’ve gotten about three,” JJ pretended to calculate, her glinting blue eyes flicking to me. “I’m pretty sure Aria has that beat from the last twenty-four hours –“</p>
<p>“You’re all jerks, and now I’m driving myself to the movies,” I announced, skirting past them the moment the elevators slid open. They were all gathered around me before I’d made it six feet. JJ wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me to her as we now-awkwardly shuffled for the parking garage. </p>
<p>“<i>Please</i> ride with us?” she pouted, I made the mistake of looking up at her and catching her killer puppy-dog eyes. She even batted her lashes for good measure. When I tried to keep from caving, she said idly, “I mean, I guess you <i>could</i> drive yourself and leave the three of us to gossip unhindered about what just happened…”</p>
<p>Damn, for a non-profiler she knew exactly how to play me. With a roll of my eyes, I playfully pushed her into Emily and Penelope as I started for my car. “Okay, okay, <i>fine</i>. I’ll subject myself to your harassment, but <i>only</i> if I get the front seat.”</p>
<p>“Deal,” JJ said instantly; Emily gave her a look. </p>
<p>“Why do you get to make the deals? It’s <i>my</i> car!”</p>
<p>JJ gave an idle shrug and pointed out, “either Aria sits up front or I do, and I’ll take over the radio.”</p>
<p>The threat of country music wasn’t something Emily took lightly; she even opened the passenger door for me. Giving a victorious smirk, I tossed my purse in and took my rightful spot. Once the rest of them were in, Emily went to start the car and Penelope gave a groan; I felt her slump against the back of my seat.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” JJ and I asked at the same time; Penelope huffed and whined, </p>
<p>“I left my stupid keys in my stupid office.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need them,” Emily instantly dismissed, ready to go. She was the most punctual person on the team, considering herself late to something if she wasn’t at least five minutes early. </p>
<p>“I kind of do. How else will Aria and I get into my apartment?” she pointed out; Emily scoffed. </p>
<p>“You don’t need keys to get inside –“</p>
<p>“Emily Prentiss you are <i>not</i> breaking into my apartment again! My landlord wasn’t joking about evicting me the next time it happens!”</p>
<p>JJ and I shared a bewildered look in the rearview mirror as she asked, “hold on, hold on. <i>Again</i>?”</p>
<p>“Save the story,” I cut in before the other two could get going, unbuckling myself and getting out. “I wanna hear this, but I also don’t want to be breaking and entering. If I’m not allowed to pick the lock on Morgan’s desk, I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be picking house locks.”</p>
<p>“Aw, you’re getting my keys for me?!” Penelope gushed; before I could say anything Emily leaned back to grin at me. </p>
<p>“More like she’s going back for another hug.”</p>
<p>Penelope and JJ <i>ooh</i>’d and I glared at the lot of them. “Just for that I’m gonna take my sweet time.”</p>
<p>“Another excuse to take a little longer with Reid,” JJ mused; I was killing all of them. Before anything else could get said, I turned and scampered back towards the building. As I rounded the corner, nearly to the door, I went to grab my badge. </p>
<p>Alarm prickled through me when I didn’t feel it clipped to my skirt, until I realized I’d tossed it in my purse. And I’d tossed my purse into the car. Groaning – because of <i>course</i> I’d have to go back and deal with the girls – I turned and started for the car. </p>
<p>I collided with the person coming around the corner, stumbling and nearly falling backwards. Hands caught my arms and I gave an apologetic laugh, tipping my head back and expecting one of the girls. </p>
<p>“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t –“</p>
<p>My words died out the moment I registered who I was speaking to. </p>
<p>Connor was grinning down at me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy first Monday of fall! Hopefully this was a good way to kick off the week! I mean, cliffhanger aside... hehe. </p>
<p>Did you have a feeling Connor would be showing up, or are you as surprised as Aria? What do you think will happen with them? Will someone come to the rescue, or will Aria be stuck trying to defend herself from Skeevy JerkFace? I can't wait to hear your thoughts!</p>
<p>Thank you guys for all the love and support. You know how to make the bad days better, and I really love reading all your comments! I hope the story makes you smile as much as all of you do for me! Have a beautiful week, you precious lil jellybeans!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. No Patience for Bullshit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/631165003372937216/chapter-28-is-up">Height &amp; Chapter Picture</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I brought my arms up and snapped them out, hitting hard against the insides of his elbows. As soon as I felt his grip give I wrenched myself back out of his hold and backed up to put several feet between us. Though I was ready for him to attack, all he did was relax back onto his heels and watch me, trademark sneer curling up the corner of his mouth. </p>
<p>What was he doing? He had me trapped – virtually alone – in a dark parking garage. He had to have been waiting here for a while, so why was he just looking at me instead of capitalizing on his surprise attack?  </p>
<p><i>Hurting me isn’t his objective, so what is</i>? He was playing a game. There was an angle to this, there was <i>always</i> an angle with Connor. If I could figure it out his intentions, I could get a step ahead and keep out of the trap he was inevitably laying…</p>
<p>Connor took a step towards me and I jerked back, snapped out of my thoughts. My hands came up in front of me, ready to fight, and he snorted at the gesture. </p>
<p>“Little defensive, hm?” he chuckled, rolling his shoulders back and shaking his head, polishing his nails against his button-down. “What, nervous now that your seventy-two hours are up?”</p>
<p>“How did you get into the parking garage?” I demanded, trying to keep myself calm and buy some time to think about what the hell I was gonna do. When all he did was shrug, I added “You need to leave right now. You’re trespassing –“</p>
<p>“I really didn’t appreciate having a restraining order served to me at work, you know,” he cut in, looking down at his fingernails for a moment before his eyes flicked back to me again. He knew me too well. He knew I was trying to get my bearing and figure out a plan, and he wasn’t gonna let me recover from being caught off-guard. “In front of my boss, my coworkers, the customers, interrupting the sale I was trying to close… you know, after all you did to <i>me</i>, I really don’t think I should even be here trying to help you right now.” </p>
<p>“Ex<i>cuse</i> me?” I scoffed, realizing only after I’d spoken that I probably should’ve been treading a little more carefully around him. Though I softened my tone I didn’t take away the doubt in my voice. “How are you trying to <i>help</i> me right now?”</p>
<p>The corner of Connor’s lip curled up into a devilish smirk; he loved holding information over me. <i>Don’t let him see how affected you are</i>, I ordered myself instantly, keeping my face free from the irritation threatening to rise up. </p>
<p>“You see, <i>my lawyer</i> wanted to just press charges and have you embarrassed the same way you did to me, but I insisted I’d come try to talk some sense into you,” he told me idly, belittling tone hitting like a slap to the face. As if the underhanded threat wasn’t enough. </p>
<p><i>Don’t let him in your head, Aria,</i> I willed, steeling my face and raising a brow at him. “What charges? I didn’t do anything to you.”</p>
<p>“Section 18.2-417. It’s called slander and libel. You know, spreading misinformation about me not only to those at my work, but the people you tricked into helping you with that little three-day joke of a <i>restraining order</i>.” </p>
<p>He was trying to play against my weak spot; my self-doubt. He was trying to push me as far off-balance as I could get. <i>Good luck with that, Skeevy JerkFace.</i></p>
<p>“I didn’t trick <i>anyone</i>. See, when others actually care about you, they want to help protect you from the shitty people that try to make their lives miserable,” I threw out, and instead of looking annoyed or put out like I’d been hoping, his face settled into a dark grin that unsettled me to my core. </p>
<p>“Yeah? They care? Then where are they all?” he took a step forward and I balled my fists, bringing my arms up again, ready to strike. “They <i>care</i> about you, but they let you wander around the world’s worst-lit parking garage all by yourself…”</p>
<p>Okay, he had a point about the shitty lighting. Regardless, though, my point was still valid.</p>
<p>“They know I can take care of myself.</p>
<p>“You can? That’s cute. <i>You’re cute</i>,” he mocked, hands slowly pulling out of his pockets. I had a feeling our discussion was drawing to a rapid and dangerous close, which meant I needed an escape plan <i>now</i>. </p>
<p>“You need to leave,” I told him firmly. I hadn’t actually thought he’d listen and just up and turn around, but I was running out of options, okay? I had to exhaust all possible solutions before I could panic like I wanted to. </p>
<p><i>Think, Aria, think</i>! </p>
<p>There was a car-full of highly-trained, very-protective FBI women a few rows down, and four equally-aggressive, equally-defensive FBI men half a dozen floors above me. If I could just hold Connor off until Emily or JJ or Penny or <i>someone</i> came to check on me... Okay, who was I kidding? No one was gonna come look for me, not anytime in the near future. Why would they? The girls thought I’d be up taking my time flirting with Reid, and the rest of the team upstairs thought we were long gone. </p>
<p>Even though my team was all around me, I felt completely alone. I was trapped here with Connor, right back where I never wanted to be ever again. Stuck, scared, and at his mercy –</p>
<p>No. No I wasn’t. <i>The hell I was.</i></p>
<p>Connor moved closer and as I went to take another step back, JJ’s voice in my head instructed, <i>Don’t back yourself into a corner. Keep as much distance between yourself and other barriers as possible so you can’t be pinned or trapped.</i></p>
<p>As Hotch had taught, I took just about two seconds to survey my surroundings, cataloguing as much as I could before I looked back to my attacker. <i>Don’t let yourself become distracted, don’t take your eyes off them for longer than absolutely necessary.</i></p>
<p>The door to the lobby was behind me – useless without my damn badge – and the wall to my right blocked me on one side, but the left was mostly open. There was an SUV parked beside us, but if I could angle a little more to the left, I was small enough I could probably slide between the bumper and the wall…</p>
<p>He reached out for me again and I forced myself to hold my ground, shoving his hand back at him. He did it again and I smacked it harder and said as forcefully as I could, “Connor, do <i>not</i> touch me.”</p>
<p>Of all the responses he could’ve given, the unsettling smile that crept over his face wasn’t one I’d been prepared for. He slowly tucked his hands back into his pockets like they had been before and rolled his shoulders back, drawing himself up just a little taller. </p>
<p>“What’s gonna happen if I <i>do</i>? Are you going to hit me?” he asked. His eyes flickered down to my legs, then to my holstered gun. My fingers twitched towards it and he slowly pulled his gaze back up to my own head, tipping curiously to the side as he pressed sweetly, “are you going to shoot me, Aria?”</p>
<p>“If you put your hands on me, I’ll do whatever I need to,” I told him evenly, using everything I had in me to keep my voice from shaking. “I’m asking you right now to back up and let me leave.”</p>
<p>His smile widened. </p>
<p>“Whoever said you can’t leave?” </p>
<p>He didn’t move, though. He was standing directly in my path, not giving enough room on either side of him to get by without having to bump into him. Touching him in any way was the last thing I wanted to voluntarily do, but I knew myself. </p>
<p>If I didn’t try to leave, if I couldn’t prove to myself that he wouldn’t let me, guilt would overwhelm me with whatever happened here tonight. Whether he hurt me or I hurt him, I’d blame myself for not trying to leave. If I left any shred of doubt behind with whatever I did, I’d never stop second-guessing myself. </p>
<p>For a heartbeat I could’ve sworn I’d seen movement behind him, a flash of pink against the corner of the wall. Penelope?! Praying my best friend had felt my need for help, I shifted to the side to look around him; there was nothing but shadow. This was up to me, then. I couldn’t wait and hope someone would think to come check on me. </p>
<p>When I didn’t answer or move right away, Connor immediately knew my inner debate. He knew the predicament he’d shoved me into, and he was overly pleased with himself for making me pause and think about what the hell to do. </p>
<p>Then, for a split second, his eyes narrowed <i>just</i> a hint. As quick as it’d happened it was gone, but that brief moment was all I’d needed. He’d unwillingly shown me his hand. <i>He doesn’t think I’ll try,</i> I realized, forcing my face to stay decidedly neutral. He wasn’t a profiler, but he knew me annoyingly well enough to read me if I let him. </p>
<p>
  <i>He thinks he can use the years of his silent control to keep me where he wants me without having to do anything. Without giving me any physical proof of the games he’s playing.</i>
</p>
<p>Not this time. </p>
<p>I shot forward to duck past the right side of him so fast he didn’t even move to block me. Like Morgan had taught me, I bent at the waist and drove my shoulder against his ribs – a sensitive spot that’d get him to pull away – and the second he moved his footing I pushed past him. </p>
<p>With all my strength I launched forward to break into a run; heels or not, I was faster than him. An iron-tight grip caught my right elbow and before I’d even rounded the corner I was hauled back against him. </p>
<p>As I stumbled I caught Connor’s eye, and for a moment I held his furious stare. He <i>hadn’t</i> expected me to run. I’d caught him off guard, and he was <i>not</i> pleased I’d seen past his manipulation. I’d unbalanced him and thrown him off his planned course; he didn’t know what to do next. He was just acting on instinct now. </p>
<p>As proud of myself as I was to have one-upped his mind games, an impulsive Connor was a dangerous Connor. </p>
<p>The longer he held me, the more danger I was in, and I wasn’t letting him hurt me. Not tonight, not <i>ever</i>. He felt me tense, felt my fingers reaching for my gun, and he wrenched my arm up and back to keep me from grabbing it. Instantly my left hand tried to reach around myself and he grabbed <i>that</i> arm too. </p>
<p>“<i>Let me go</i>!” I snarled, twisting my body down and forward, trying to loosen his grip. Morgan and JJ had never shown me this hold, but I could figure it out. I knew the basics – I just had to get him in a weak spot. </p>
<p>Okay, forget not leaving marks. I’d rip his damn skin off if I needed to at this point. I went to kick back at his shin but he’d been ready for me; though I clipped part of his leg, he didn’t even freakin’ budge. His hold only tightened, pulling me flush to his chest, and then he started to haul me back. </p>
<p>He was trying to take me away. </p>
<p>Panic and instinct took over and I threw myself forward as hard as I could, bringing my foot up at the same time once more and kicking back with everything I had. Again, I’d caught him off guard. This time, my heel connected hard with bone and he let out a shout of pain. </p>
<p>His grip dropped and so did I, my momentum sending me face first to the ground. My hands flew out and I skid across the pavement, barely catching myself before I faceplanted. Shoes crunched on the asphalt behind me and it spurred me forward. Scrambling up in a panic, I barely got my feet under me before I shot around the corner. </p>
<p>Hands caught me and instinctively I wrenched myself back, trying to figure out how Connor had gotten in front of me –</p>
<p>“Aria, it’s okay! It’s okay,” Emily said quickly, steadying me and pulling me back into her hold. Oh my god, Emily! I let out a shaky laugh and she gave my arms a tight, reassuring squeeze before turning and pushing me back behind her.</p>
<p>Right into Penelope’s arms. My best friend hauled me protectively to her and held me tight as JJ surged past us and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Emily. I wasn’t alone. I had my girls. My <i>family</i>. </p>
<p>Past her, I saw Connor approaching us slowly, a hand held out as he chuckled lightly and looked between the four of us. There was no hint of the struggle we’d just had, no sign of the fury that had broken to the surface just moments ago. </p>
<p>He was back on his bullshit, trying to make himself look innocent. For the first <i>ever</i> with Connor, I knew it wouldn’t work. He could be charming and make himself seem harmless and sweet, but he’d never had to face off with anyone like the BAU team. He was good, but he wasn’t <i>bullshit Emily Prentiss</i> good. He wasn’t <i>lie to JJ’s face</i> good.  </p>
<p>It was almost amusing to watch him throw out a wide, stomach-churning smile, thinking he could trick the women in front of him. “Excuse me, ladies. Aria and I were –“</p>
<p>“That’s enough. Back up,” JJ cut in. There was a flash of surprise in his eyes at her direct tone, but he shook it off the next instant. When Connor ignored her and took another step, Emily’s hand fell to the gun on her hip. <i>Now</i> he paused and let his eyes widen in alarm, both hands going up now, looking between them in well-faked shock. </p>
<p>“Hey, woah, I think there’s been a misunder –“</p>
<p>“She said back up. <i>Now,</i>” Emily repeated, her tone not leaving any room for argument; Connor actually took a step back. I was pretty positive he’d never had that tone of voice used on him in his entire twenty-four years of life, and it was clear he didn’t know how to react. All he could do was stare incredulously between JJ and Emily, for once at a total loss for words. “Do you want to try and explain why you were assaulting a federal employee on private, federal property?”</p>
<p>Before he could try and answer, JJ shrugged and crossed her arms as she added, “or, should we just arrest you and let you explain it to the court?”</p>
<p>A slow, amused smile began to creep onto my face, widening at the noise of disbelief that left Connor. The fake surprise was quickly replaced with <i>genuine</i> surprise as he realized that no one around him was buying what he was trying to sell.</p>
<p>“I – <i>what</i>?!” he laughed incredulously, shaking his head and looking around us. “You can’t <i>arrest</i> me –“</p>
<p>“Oh, I think we can. What do you think, Jayje?” Emily mused; her hand didn’t move from her gun. From somewhere ahead of us, I heard what sounded like the click of a door opening and shutting. </p>
<p><i>Either more of the team sensed my distress and came to help, or some poor lobby worker’s in for one hell of a surprise,</i> I thought to myself. As well at the girls were handling this ridiculous situation, I was <i>really</i> hoping the team were here to back us up. With how unpredictable Connor could get when he was thrown off of his well-planned attacks, I didn’t want any of my friends in more trouble than they were already. </p>
<p>The others didn’t seem to notice the sound I had. JJ was busy playing along with Emily to taunt Connor, shrugging and tapping her chin in mock-contemplation as she assured, “we definitely can, Emily –“</p>
<p>“Not without cause,” Connor argued, his attempt at innocence fully abandoned as his defensive anger took over. Fear spiked in me at his tone and on instinct I shifted further into Penelope’s safe hug; she tightened her arms around me in silent reassurance. Emily’s hand wrapped over the handle of her pistol but this time Connor didn’t pause. “I don’t know what game you all think you’re playing here but I can assure you that you have <i>nothing</i> to hold against me –“</p>
<p>“Entering property that’s been clearly marked as private without express authorization to do so is classified as trespassing, which is automatically a class three misdemeanor.”</p>
<p>Connor whirled to stare, perplexed, as Hotch came around the corner. To say the relief coursing through me was overwhelmingly palpable was a gross understatement. He stood with rigid, authoritative power, his broad shoulders pulling back and drawing him up to his full height – several inches over Connor.</p>
<p>The stupid, skeevy man gaping up at him was smart, but he didn’t have the common sense to keep his mouth shut in the presence of Aaron “No-Patience-For-Bullshit” Hotchner. </p>
<p>“Look, man, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you don’t know a damn thing about –“</p>
<p>“I’m Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, previously a prosecutor the District Attorney’s office. Let me assure you I know many things, Mr. Aldridge. For example, when you refused to leave the property after you were undoubtedly asked to do so by my team member, Ms. DiMaggio, the trespassing class <i>three</i> misdemeanor became a class <i>one</i> misdemeanor. Which, as I <i>also</i> know, is punishable by up to twelve months in jail plus fines up to $2,500.”</p>
<p>Connor turned to face him fully, fury burning in his dark eyes, totally lost in his barely-dormant rage; Hotch didn’t even blink. Seeing how unaffected he was, Connor lost it just a little more. “There is <i>no way</i> you’re arresting me on some <i>trespassing</i> bullshit, <i>Agent Hotchner</i>. I’ll have you know my own lawyer is already working a case against your <i>teammate</i> and trying to pin me with these shit accusations –“</p>
<p>“I’ll be arresting you on charges of both assault and stalking, as <i>well</i> as trespassing,” Hotch corrected, shutting him down as he pulled out handcuffs from his pocket; he’d come prepared. Connor instantly began to back up and without further hesitation Emily drew her gun. The click of the hammer stopped him instantly, and he looked between the two of them, at a total loss of what to do. </p>
<p>I could honestly say it was a good look on him. Hotch’s eyes flicked to the rest of us, lingering on me for a heartbeat. “Garcia, take Aria upstairs. Prentiss, JJ, and I will be up as soon as local law enforcement arrives.” He opened the cuffs and stepped up, grabbing Connor’s shoulder and forcing him to turn around. “Connor Aldridge, you’re under arrest for assault, stalking, harassment, and trespassing onto private property. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you can be used against you…”</p>
<p>My best friend was already towing me back away from the scene, heading for the northern garage entrance instead of going around to the one Hotch had come from. Though she didn’t say anything, I knew she let us linger long enough to watch the cuffs click into place on Connor’s wrists. It was one of the best sights I’d ever seen. </p>
<p>We were quiet, all but running through the lobby to the elevator, both shaking now as the adrenaline began to wear off. It took her a few tries to hit the button, but as soon as she did and we were on, she was pulling me into a suffocating hug.</p>
<p>“Oh my god, are you alright? Did he hurt you?” she rushed out, briefly leaning back to hold me at arms length before crushing me to her again. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have let you go alone! I wasn’t even thinking!”</p>
<p>“Pen, it’s okay. I’m alright,” I tried to soothe. Though my voice was shaking and I didn’t sound believable, I was being honest. Really, I was! Maybe that was still just the adrenaline talking, but I really didn’t feel anything but relief. Okay, and a <i>little</i> smugness. Seriously, if I could’ve taken a picture of Connor’s look of absolute shock when Hotch pulled the cuffs out… </p>
<p>“I’m so glad Hotch got down to us so fast,” Penelope breathed, still not having let go of me. She felt me try to pull back in surprise and added, “I went after you. You left your bag and I knew you couldn’t get in, and I wanted to tease you about your handsome doctor, and then I saw that <i>stupid Skeevy JerkFace</i> and I – I just called Hotch and ran to get Em and JJ –“</p>
<p>With a laugh – a reaction Penny clearly wasn’t expecting – I managed to wriggle back enough to look up at her. “I saw you! I just – I thought I’d imagined it, but you were really there –“</p>
<p>“I should’ve just called Hotch and stayed to help you,” she lamented, letting me stay at arm’s length as she checked me over again. She looked on the verge of tears, and I knew how guilty she had to feel. It was probably the same way I’d felt after she’d been shot, when I’d kicked myself for all the things I should’ve done…</p>
<p>“Hey. Don’t think like that. Absolutely none of this is your fault, Penny G. Staying to deal with Connor by yourself wouldn’t have ended well,” I said gently, settling my hands on top of the ones she had on my shoulders. “You did the best thing you could’ve done by going to get help.”</p>
<p>She looked down at me doubtfully and I gave her the most genuine smile I could muster. She softened her face just a hint and asked meekly, “really?”</p>
<p>“Really, truly.”</p>
<p>She gave a shaky sigh, nodding more to herself as she let me give her another quick hug while the elevator doors slid open. </p>
<p>“ – <i>should be down there rippin’ his head off</i>!”</p>
<p>Morgan’s furious shouting startled both Penelope and I. We shared a bewildered look and rushed off the elevator to see what the hell was going on. Reid <i>and</i> Rossi were between him and the doors to the lobby, watching him as he paced incessantly, trying to get past them. </p>
<p>“We can’t risk doing anything that could harm the case Hotch has been building,” Reid stressed, and Morgan threw out a string of curses and surged towards the doors again. Rossi stepped up and put both hands on Morgan’s chest, shoving him back a step. Morgan surged again and Rossi jammed a finger at him. </p>
<p>“You need to calm down! If Hotch says he has it handled, he –“</p>
<p>“I don’t give a <i>damn</i> what Hotch says! Some guy’s downstairs harrassin’ the ladies and we’re supposed to just stand around and wait for him to <i>handle it</i>!? I don’t think so!”</p>
<p>“Morgan just wait –“ Reid tried. Morgan ducked past Rossi and shot through the doors before Reid even realized what had happened. The furious man only made it three steps before he nearly collided with Penelope and I. </p>
<p>His eyes swept us fast, and once he was satisfied that we were in one piece he asked quickly, “where’re the others?”</p>
<p>“Still downstairs, south side entrance –“ Penelope began, and Morgan was taking off down the hall before she’d finished her sentence. We shared a look, not sure if we should go after him, but in the next moment Rossi was beside us. He rested a hand on my arm and when I looked up, he nodded towards the bullpen. </p>
<p>“You two wait here with Reid. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”</p>
<p>“Good luck,” I chuckled, giving him a small smile as I allowed myself to be towed through the lobby. The moment we reached the glass doors, Reid was pushing them open and reaching out to guide us further in. He settled his hand against my lower back and I let myself lean just a bit into his touch; he didn’t seem to mind.  </p>
<p>“Garcia, do you still have the first aid kit in your office?” he asked as we gathered at my desk. I looked up at him in alarm. First aid kit?!</p>
<p>“Do you think Morgan’s gonna end up needing it?” I asked him in concern. Reid blinked, surprised at my question, and glanced down at me. </p>
<p>“<i>You</i> need it. Your knees are bleeding, Aria.”</p>
<p>What?! I looked down at myself and saw my torn tights. Penelope squeezed my arm as she rushed off. “I’ll be right back! Keep an eye on her!”</p>
<p>She was gone through the side door in the next moment, leaving Reid and I standing in heavy silence together. Things didn’t feel awkward – they never were with us – but they didn’t feel right. Reid hadn’t met my eyes still, and even now when I tried to, he sunk to a knee at my side. I felt his fingers tugging the torn nylon aside to study my wounds. </p>
<p>He felt… troubled. Like he was just as upset as Morgan, but <i>he</i> couldn’t even stand to look at me. Instantly my mind went to the doubt and self-loathing. Was Reid annoyed at all I’d been putting him through? Was he starting to think I was just playing all of this up –</p>
<p><i>I believe you</i>. </p>
<p>His words came back to me and the rest of the doubts buzzing in my mind quieted down. Reid had assured he wasn’t mad at me when I’d first told him, and… I trusted him. If he was upset with me, I had to believe he’d tell me. And since he hadn’t…</p>
<p>“Reid?” I asked him softly, fingers twisting into my skirt. The hand toying with my tights paused, but he didn’t look up. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>He stood slowly, brushing his pants off before he tucked his hair behind his ears. Instead of answering me, he asked, “could you take off your pantyhose? We’ll need to clean the scrapes and they’ll just be in the way.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, um, okay,” I agreed quickly. I started to slip past him and his hand shot out to catch my wrist. “What –“</p>
<p>“Don’t leave,” he told me instantly, and at hearing his own words he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. “I um, I’ll turn around and give you privacy but just – just stay here. Please.”</p>
<p>When I nodded – and <i>only</i> when I nodded – he dropped his hold on me and then sure enough, he put his back to me, skirting around me towards the break area to leave me be. It took some finagling, but I was able to kick my heels aside and shimmy my tights down far enough to pull them off with most of my modesty still intact. When he returned, I saw a damp paper towel in his hand. </p>
<p>“Oh, Reid, you don’t need to,” I started quickly. He <i>hated</i> germs. Wiping off my bloodied skin was probably one of the last things he wanted to do. “It’s okay. When Penny brings the kit I can –“</p>
<p>“Sit on your desk,” he instructed. His voice was gentle, but he left no room for argument. When I hesitated, he nodded behind me, and this time I took his silent cue. I stepped back and eased myself up (admittedly with a bit more effort on my part, now that I was without my heels) as Reid settled into my desk chair in front of me. </p>
<p>Gently, one hand cupped the back of my calf and he held my leg in place as he began to dab lightly at my knee. Now that the adrenaline was all but gone, the sting caught me off guard and I sucked in a breath. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he murmured, lightening his touch with the paper towel. After watching him do a few cautious dabs, I asked him softly, </p>
<p>“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” His hand stilled over my knee and I felt his fingers tighten just a hint around my leg. I couldn’t help it anymore, I just had to add an even quieter, “please? I just… if I said something, or did something –“</p>
<p>Finally, Reid looked up at me. His chocolate eyes were dark and filled with a deep-seated frustration that took me off-guard. I had no idea how to read whatever was on his mind, so I had no choice but to sit patiently and wait for him to talk. </p>
<p>“I shouldn’t have let you walk down alone,” he admitted. Now that I could hear the guilt in his voice, I could see it in his face. “I promised that I’d help you deal with your ex, and now you – you’re hurt. He hurt you.”</p>
<p>In a way, as bad as it might sound, I was glad I’d gone through the guilt that I had with Penelope because now I could truly say I knew exactly how Reid felt; how Penelope was feeling. Probably how Hotch and Morgan, and now Rossi, Em, and JJ were feeling. </p>
<p>I shuffled myself a little closer to the edge of the desk, giving him a soft smile. His guilty look didn’t waver, not even as I reached out and gently took hold of his hand. “Okay, I’m telling you the same thing I told Penny. This isn’t your fault, okay?” </p>
<p>Apparently, it was <i>not</i> okay. “Statistically, planned attacks lessen by almost eighty percent if the targeted victim is accompanied by someone else. That percentage only raises if the person accompanying the target is a trained FBI agent.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay, but that doesn’t –“</p>
<p>“Furthermore,” he pressed on, voice ticking up an octave like it did when he was stressed. “Even if Connor had still decided to come after you with me there, I would’ve been able to intervene and prevent him from harming you, at the very least –“</p>
<p>My heart fluttered at that, thinking of him wanting to protect me, but I had to push my giddiness aside. “I mean, maybe, but Reid –“</p>
<p>“It’s safe to say that if I had just listened to my own instincts and walked you down, you wouldn’t have –“</p>
<p>“<i>Spencer</i>,” I cut in, giving his hand a squeeze. He instantly stopped talking, mouth still partially open as he stared up at me, not having expected my interruption. Whether it was my tone or the fact I’d called him by his first name that stopped him in his tracks, I really couldn’t say, but hey. I’d take it. “You walking us to the car wouldn’t have stopped this. I got out to come back up and grab something and he ambushed me by the door. You would’ve already been back inside, so there’s no way –“</p>
<p>“I always wait for you to drive away.”</p>
<p>His admission caught <i>me</i> off guard now, and my brain effectively fizzled out as I stared back at him now. He dropped his gaze to our connected hands, staying quiet. </p>
<p>“You do?” was all I managed, a small smile taking over, warmth tinting my cheeks. His own had turned a soft pink and he gave a small nod, ducking his head. After a few moments he cleared his throat. </p>
<p>“It… It’s not <i>common</i> for an attacker to be waiting in the vehicle, but on the off chance I just – I wanted to make sure you left alright,” he explained, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, eyes flicking up to me for a heartbeat before dropping again. “So… if I’d gone down, I would’ve stayed and I would’ve seen you get out.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care how much you insist on it, I’m not letting you blame yourself,” I told him simply, giving a shrug when he peeked up at me again. “I mean it. Look, I get it. I know you think that if you’d just insisted on coming down, things would’ve been fine. And maybe they would’ve been. But… it’s like you reminded me a few weeks ago: <i>we are not responsible for the decisions someone else makes</i>.”</p>
<p>Finally the wounded look on his face faded a hint. Now he gave me a half-annoyed frown at having his words (which, to be fair, were originally <i>my</i> words) thrown back at him. “While that’s true, that still doesn’t excuse –“</p>
<p>“That goes for decisions that Connor made, <i>and</i> decisions that I made,” I pressed, raising a brow at him. I wasn’t letting him win this one. “You offered, and it was my decision to tell you not to come down. You had no reason to insist on it and now you’re fully absolved of the blame for this.”</p>
<p>“I – what? No,” he frowned, shaking his head. I gave him a shrug. “That’s not how this works –“</p>
<p>“Hey, that’s just how it is. I don’t make the rules,” I sighed in faux-regret. Finally, I got a tiny giggle out of him. </p>
<p>“That’s exactly what you’re doing!”</p>
<p>“It is not!” I laughed, playfully nudging his leg my own that he wasn’t still holding onto. “Now, I believe you have knees you need to clean off, Dr. Reid.”</p>
<p>He gave me a bemused smirk as he went to start dabbing at my wound again, but his hand faltered. He frowned and looked up, glancing around the bullpen. His eyes met mine and I cocked my head to the side in silent question, prompting him to ask, “what’s taking Garcia so long?”</p>
<p>Huh, good point. Her office was just a short dash from the floor, and in her Mama Bear panic she shouldn’t have been gone as long as she had been. Concern prickled through me, but before I could even maneuver myself off the desk, commotion exploded in the lobby. </p>
<p>Apparently, the team hadn’t taken the elevator back up. They were all storming back from the direction of the stairs – which was also the direction of Penelope’s lair – and they were in the middle of an argument that was getting more and more heated with each step. </p>
<p>Morgan threw the glass doors open, marching straight for the two of us with Hotch right on his heels. The ladies and Rossi hung back a few steps, all looking miffed, but none looking ready to murder someone like Morgan did. </p>
<p>Hotch was still desperately trying to keep him under control, it seemed. “Morgan, we needed to keep things quiet until –“</p>
<p>“No, don’t try and cover up the real issue here, Hotch. You didn’t trust us enough to help you handle this. Just like you <i>always</i> do, you kept things we needed to know to yourself because you think no one out here can step up and handle things!”</p>
<p>“You’re turning this into something it’s not,” Hotch argued back, shaking his head and glaring at Morgan when he gave a snort of contempt. “This wasn’t about trusting the team, it was about doing what <i>needed</i> to be done to keep Aria safe –“</p>
<p>“Nah, don’t spin it like that. You know damn well there was no <i>need</i> for the secrecy,” Morgan shot back, dodging the hand that shot out to grab his shoulder as he surged for me. “What we <i>needed</i> was for you to trust us and let us help our teammate! Our <i>family</i>, Hotch!”</p>
<p>He had the same furious fire burning in his eyes like he had at the hospital the night Penny was shot. When his gaze locked onto me I shrunk back onto the desk, half-ready to bolt across the bullpen barefoot. </p>
<p>When Morgan saw the alarm in my eyes he instantly slowed his pace, face softening down at least ten more levels as he fixed me with a gentle stare. Wordlessly, he wedged himself between Reid and I, and before I could react, he ducked and wrapped me in a tight hug. Relief at the touch – and the loss of his anger – swept through me and I hugged him back instantly. </p>
<p>“You okay, sunshine?” he murmured, pulling back to look down at me when I nodded. “You mean it?”</p>
<p>His eyes fell to my tender knees and his heavy brows knitted together in concern. I rested a hand on his arm and promised, “I’m okay, really. Thanks to Pen, Emily, and JJ, he didn’t do much.”</p>
<p>“He shouldn’t have done <i>anything</i>,” Morgan started up again, turning to glare at Hotch over his shoulder. Though Hotch crossed his arms to give him a stern scowl right back, I could see the same look in <i>his</i> face that I’d seen in Reid and Penny’s. </p>
<p><i>Apparently overwhelming guilt and crippling self-criticism is as important to this job as mind reading is,</i> I sighed to myself. Thankfully, Penelope scooched her way through the grumpy men – first aid kit in hand – and broke the tension with, </p>
<p>“For the record, our little honeybee had <i>Creepy McScummyPants</i> on the ropes before we stepped in. She’s a tough little sugar-free cookie.”</p>
<p>My best friend gave me a soft smile, patting my cheek gently as she handed off the kit to Reid and then tucked herself to my side. The studious profiler at knee-height instantly got to work patching me up properly, switching to clean off my other knee as the others started to ease down off their adrenaline-fueled fury. JJ joined us at the desk, standing beside Reid and I, a hand resting on my leg in comfort as we watched him work. </p>
<p>The others by Hotch were all still standoffish, but <i>finally</i> Morgan had started to relax his shoulders and unclench his jaw. That was, until Hotch said, </p>
<p>“It wasn’t my intention for you all to find out about the situation this way. But,” he cut in the second he saw Morgan’s shoulders arching up again, “I <i>did</i> plan to fill the team in after the court hearing on Monday –“</p>
<p>“Court hearing?” Rossi asked in surprise, stepping from beside Hotch to join Morgan in looking up at him with narrowed eyes. Oh no. This wasn’t gonna end well. “For <i>what</i>?”</p>
<p>Emily was the one who crossed her arms and bit out, “if I had to guess, it has something to do with the stalking thing you threw at him, Hotch. Am I right?”</p>
<p>“Stalk – <i>he’s been stalking her</i>?!” Morgan shouted, throwing his hands out in frustration. Penelope, Reid, <i>and</i> myself all gave a start at that. “What the <i>hell</i>, Hotch?! You knew all this and you still seriously thought this was a good thing to keep to yourself? She was bein’ stalked by some dude who clearly knew exactly how to find her and you thought you’d just sit on that until you felt like tellin’ us?”</p>
<p>“Morgan I told you, it was a risky situation –“</p>
<p>“The only thing <i>risky</i> about this was Aria’s safety! You <i>put her</i> at risk because you couldn’t trust us! Because <i>you</i> made a bullshit judgement call to be the strong, silent leader, you got Aria hurt! Every single bit of fear she felt tonight, every single mark that dude left is on <i>you</i> –“</p>
<p>Hotch’s stoic mask slipped and face actually fell at Morgan’s words, the guilt overtaking everything else. My heart twisted at the look and I couldn’t sit by anymore to let them have it out.  </p>
<p>“Morgan, hey. Don’t say that,” I finally cut in, gently nudging Reid’s hand away as I hopped off the desk, rushing to get between he and Hotch. “Look, Hotch kept the stuff with Connor quiet, yes, but it was for good reason.”</p>
<p>Morgan scoffed again. “What kind of reason would –“</p>
<p>“<i>Shush</i>,” I told him sternly, resting a hand on his arm. “<i>I</i> was secretive about it at first because I thought I could handle him. But then Connor turned up at my school about a week ago and I went to Reid and Hotch for help –“</p>
<p>“What, Reid knew too?” Emily asked, a hint of disbelief in her tone as her dark eyes flicked to me. I glanced around me just to see, and sure enough, JJ and Rossi both looked just as wounded. </p>
<p>“I didn’t just pick and choose people at random, guys. When I saw Connor outside my dorm, I got scared and I came straight to Quantico. I’d actually thought everyone would be gone, I hadn’t even been sure Hotch would be here. It just happened that he <i>and</i> Reid hadn’t left,” I explained to them, looking around at the others and hoping they’d understand. “Hotch helped me file this temporary protective order –“</p>
<p>“An emergency stalking protective order? For 72 hours?” JJ guessed, and I gave a quick nod. “And the court meeting Monday must’ve been for the permanent protective order.”</p>
<p>Hotch stepped up now, his mask back in place but the emotions still rough in his dark eyes. He glanced around at the team and after a few moments of silence he explained, “working with the DA, there were dozens of cases that fell apart because <i>one</i> person let something slip. <i>One</i> person made the wrong move. It was already an incredibly delicate case, only made more precarious with Reid and Garcia knowing as well.”</p>
<p>“Connor’s really good at finding loopholes and twisting things around,” I added quickly before anyone (namely Morgan) could start going again. “He… tonight he mentioned pressing charges for slander and libel, because the order had been served to him at work. He knew about court on Monday, and I know he was trying to build a case against me. He’d been expecting me to fight to protect myself and that’s exactly what he wanted. He just – he plays these games and you don’t know you’ve lost until you play out exactly what he wants and it’s too late.”</p>
<p>“A malignant narcissist,” Rossi added, and Hotch nodded instantly. “He’s got the lovely traits of the classic narcissist, like the elevated egocentricity and the heightened self-entitlement. But, this kid’s got the added bonus of extreme manipulation, total lack of empathy or remorse, and a killer sadistic streak.”</p>
<p>“He’d do whatever it takes to win the self-created game he’s playing, at any cost, no matter who it hurt. In his eyes, the more pain and destruction, the better,” Emily added on. As weird as it was to listen to everyone around me start to profile the asshole I’d been stupid enough to date, seeing them drop their defenses and come together was more relieving that seeing Connor put in handcuffs. Almost. </p>
<p>“You’re right, Morgan,” Hotch said, looking over my head at the still-angry man behind me. “Aria’s safety was of utmost importance. I made a judgement call and I didn’t realize my mistake wouldn’t just reflect on me, but that it would have consequences for Aria.”</p>
<p>I could tell Morgan was still pissed off – anger was the hardest state to pull him out of, <i>especially</i> when he felt betrayed like he did – but all he did was give Hotch a gruff nod. There was more to be said and more to handle with Connor, but thankfully Rossi stepped up to the plate. </p>
<p>“Alright, I think we need to call it a night. Talking about this anymore right now will just make things worse,” he reasoned, looking around at the others and holding his hands out towards Morgan and Hotch in a placating gesture. “Aria’s safe, that jerk’s in jail, and there’s nothing more that arguing is going to solve tonight.”</p>
<p>“Rossi’s right. What’s done is done, and as long as we’re all okay, that’s all that matters right now,” JJ agreed, pushing off my desk and coming around to pull me into a side hug. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but after this week I’m ready to get out of here.”</p>
<p>Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and myself all made noises of agreement. Hotch and Morgan hadn’t moved – or spoken – and they didn’t make any attempt to, even as the others started to disperse. JJ hugged me tight to her and as we pulled back she gave my forehead a swift kiss. </p>
<p>“Are you staying with Penelope tonight?” she asked; Penny called out <i>of course!</i> before I could even open my mouth. JJ and I both snorted. “Right. Well, if you two need anything, I’m just fifteen minutes from her apartment, alright?”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Momma J,” I told her honestly. She smiled down at me and tucked my hair behind my ears before she stepped aside to let Rossi up. As he approached he gave me an amused once-over and asked idly, </p>
<p>“So, without the stilts, exactly how tall <i>are</i> you?” </p>
<p>Despite all going on, Morgan still snorted. My arms crossed irritably over my chest as Emily offered unhelpfully, </p>
<p>“She can’t be over five feet –“</p>
<p>“I am five-foot-<i>and-a-half</i>, for your information,” I corrected, throwing her a glare; Morgan snorted again. Assholes, all of them. “Just because all of <i>you</i> insist on being grossly above the national height average doesn’t mean we all need to be overachievers.”</p>
<p>Even Hotch’s lips twitched a bit at that. </p>
<p>“Didn’t you say you were leaving?” I griped, glaring up at Rossi. He chuckled and gave me a grin, twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he took my arms and swooped down to give me parting air-kisses.”</p>
<p>“<i>Stai al sicuro, dolcezza.</i>”</p>
<p>“<i>Si, signore</i>,” I huffed, though I couldn’t hide the smile. He gave me a swift as he turned to head out with JJ. With the humor gone from the area now, Morgan and Hotch were back to moping and scowling in each other’s directions. I needed to get that fixed.</p>
<p>Morgan looked down at me and I offered him a smile. When he didn’t return it, I sighed and said quietly, “I’m really sorry we didn’t tell you.”</p>
<p>“It ain’t on you,” he assured; when his gaze flicked back to Hotch, I smacked his arm. “Uh-uh. It’s not on him either. Don’t blame him, okay? I agreed with him on holding things back from you guys. If I’d insisted on telling you guys he would’ve.”</p>
<p>“Sunshine, the point is your safety was at risk, and we could’ve –“</p>
<p>“It never felt that way,” I told him simply, loud enough to make sure Hotch (who was not-so-subtly listening in) could hear it too. “From the moment I went to Hotch, he, Reid, and Penny have been with me non-stop. I’ve stayed at Penelope’s for a week, Reid’s walked us to and from the car every day, and Hotch has checked in on me <i>constantly</i> and worked himself to the bone putting a case together against Connor. Like I said, that asshole is just cunning. He was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, and it’s no one’s fault that it happened tonight. Okay?”</p>
<p>When he didn’t reply, I poked him in the stomach. He swatted my hand way and I raised my brows. “<i>Okay</i>?”</p>
<p>He was quiet and I went to poke him again. He caught my wrist and huffed, “alright, alright, y’little gremlin. I get it. Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, but… I get it.”</p>
<p>“Good,” I told him, shaking his hand off and nudging him back towards the doors. “Now go fluff your eyebrows or wax your head, or whatever it is you do on a Friday night.”</p>
<p>Instead of scowling, his eyes narrowed a hint and he shrugged as he mentioned, “actually, I’m a lot more interested in hearin’ about pretty boy escortin’ you everywhere.”</p>
<p>Uh oh. </p>
<p>My gaze quickly flicked back over my shoulder; thankfully, Reid was… actually, I didn’t know what he was doing. He looked like he was alphabetizing the first aid kid. <i>Which, yeah, he probably is,</i> I realized, before looking back to Morgan. He opened his mouth and I jammed a finger past him. </p>
<p>“<i>Go</i>.”</p>
<p>“Ay, c’mon now. I wanna discuss this –“</p>
<p>“<i>Go</i>, Morgan.”</p>
<p>Much to my chagrin, Emily stepped up to his side. “Oh, I’ll <i>gladly</i> discuss it with you. In fact, I believe you remember seeing a hug earlier tonight, am I right?”</p>
<p>“Huh, now that you mention it, I <i>do</i> remember it. Funny, I still haven’t gotten one either.”</p>
<p>And then, adding insult to my injury, Penelope slipped past me to trot after them. Seriously!? “I think I have some good points to add onto that discussion, actually.” As I gaped at my best friend she gave cheeky grin and said, “I’ll meet you in the downstairs lobby, honeybunch!”</p>
<p> The three of them threw me dangerous smirks before they turned and headed for the elevator. I was gonna kill all of them. Stifling a sigh, I turned to the quiet man at my shoulder. He was staring after the troublesome trio too, and then – after making brief eye contact with me – glanced over to Reid. </p>
<p><i>Not Hotch too</i>!</p>
<p>“It was pretty cool, watching you cuff that jerk,” I told him, trying to divert him from whatever he was thinking about just then. “I think it’s like, easily in the top three best moments of my life.”</p>
<p>He cracked a micro, near-imperceptible smile, but I could still see the guilt lingering. “I’m sorry that he was able to reach you. I promised you that I’d keep you safe.”</p>
<p>“If one more person tells me that tonight I’m losing what few marbles I have left,” I warned him playfully, although it wasn’t far from the truth. “Honestly if I didn’t know any better, I’d say all of you are giving me a hands-on course of why it’s not healthy to blame yourself for things you weren’t in control of.”</p>
<p>“Aria, if I had involved the rest of the team –“</p>
<p>“We’d be spending all our free time trying to convince Strauss to put up bail for the rest of the team,” I scoffed, giving him a look. “I <i>know</i> you heard me with Morgan. I felt perfectly safe, and four other people knowing about Connor wouldn’t have prevented what happened tonight. I really didn’t feel the need to tell anyone else until we had the court hearing, and you and I both know that if the others knew they <i>would’ve</i> jumped Connor in Colorado and rearranged his face with some bricks.”</p>
<p>I could tell Hotch wasn’t fully believing what I was telling him. I went to argue further but he told me simply, </p>
<p>“Dave’s right. There’s no use going over this now.” Again I started to disagree, but his face shifted into a small, bemused smile. He glanced back at the three troublemakers waiting in the lobby and said causally, “besides. I think I’ll want to catch this elevator.”</p>
<p>My eyes widened. Oh he <i>wouldn’t</i> – crud. He was already backing up for the doors. He was just as bad as the others!</p>
<p>“What!? No, Hotch –“ </p>
<p>He tucked his hands into his pockets as he casually shrugged and raised his voice to say, “I trust you’ll be fine walking down with Reid?”</p>
<p>At his name, the scruffy man still sorting through the kit glanced up, and instantly he nodded. My cheeks had to be about ten shades of red; Hotch <i>finally</i> gave me a full smile. </p>
<p>“I still plan to pick you up Monday at 7:30.”</p>
<p>“See you then,” I muttered, glaring after him until he turned to catch up with the others. As the elevator doors slid shut with a quiet <i>ding</i>, I took a breath and turned to face the last remaining member of the team. Reid – fully oblivious to the exchange I’d just had with Hotch – was smiling over at me. </p>
<p>When I joined him at my desk, I saw he had two band-aids laid out, both with Neosporin on the pads. He hadn’t just been sorting the kit (which was indeed much tidier now) but he’d been continuing to take care of me. </p>
<p>And, the butterflies were free-roaming all through me now. </p>
<p>“Injuries from surfaces such as a well-used parking garage carry a lot of germs that could lead to infection,” he explained as I continued to stare at him. “Though we cleaned the scrapes, it’s a good idea to put antibiotic ointment on them as well. Can I…?”</p>
<p>He motioned to the bandages and then down to my legs. “Oh! Y-yeah. Yeah! That’s – thanks. Yeah.”</p>
<p>
  <i>Smooth, DiMaggio. Way to play it cool.</i>
</p>
<p>Reid bobbed his head quickly and took one of the bandages, kneeling swiftly before pressing it onto my knee. By the time he applied the second one, I was about ready to melt. Which, only became an even stronger urge when he righted himself and was <i>much</i> closer than either of us had been expecting. </p>
<p>Without my heels, I didn’t even clear his shoulder. I had to tip my head back to meet his gaze, and in that moment I realized <i>exactly</i> how much I liked his height. It came back to me, what he’d said earlier when it’d just been the two of us.</p>
<p><i>I always wait for you to drive away</i>. </p>
<p>For the last week and a half, Reid had been not only walking me to and from the building, but he’d been watching to make sure that I was safe until I left his sight. The equivalent of watching someone get inside after dropping them off. </p>
<p>Escorting me was one thing, but waiting? No one had asked him to do that. It’d been just something small he’d decided to do, just a little bit more to go the extra mile and truly help me like he said he would. </p>
<p>“Are you ready to go?” he asked me softly, voice as gentle as his touch had been earlier. I was so caught up in him all I could manage was a nod. Reid stepped back, knelt, and grabbed my heels for me, setting them at my feet. </p>
<p>And then, he held his hands out to me. It was a small gesture, but even the simplest ones always felt so much more important, so much more <i>meaningful</i>, when it came to Spencer Reid. Taking his hands and letting him help me step into my heels felt more intimate than <i>anything</i> I’d ever done with Connor. </p>
<p>Okay, with Skeevy JerkFace that really wasn’t saying much, but still. It was tender, and soft, and so simply sweet my heart was barely able to beat normally. Even after I had my shoes on, he didn’t pull his hands away. </p>
<p>“I hope you know that I’m not letting you walk to your car by yourself ever again,” he told me, his teasing promise settling around me protectively. “I mean, just tonight alone you’ve skewed the statistics on parking garage attacks by at <i>least</i> seven percent.”</p>
<p>I knew he was just trying to lighten the mood, but my heart was going a hundred miles an hour. I liked this guy <i>so</i> much, and hearing how much he cared for my safety – and, okay, maybe a little bit of the confrontation with Connor starting to sink in – I was just lost in him completely. </p>
<p>“Can I hug you?” I asked him quietly. Our hands still hadn’t separated, and in answer he gave mine a squeeze, and then tugged me forward. My arms went up around his neck as he ducked down, his own wrapping tight around my waist as his chin settled on my shoulder. </p>
<p>“You don’t need to ask,” he whispered, lips brushing my ear and sending sparks through my body. He held me tight to him, keeping me grounded and safe and protected in his arms in a way I’d never felt before. </p>
<p>So, on a whim – and a bit of a high from one of the world’s best hugs - as we pulled apart I turned and pressed a swift, chaste kiss to his cheek. </p>
<p>It was impulsive. It had just felt right to do, and judging by the stunned, speechless smile on his face, I was assuming I wouldn’t need to ask permission for that either. Just like that, just with a few simple words, some bandages, and a warm hug, he’d soothed all of the turmoil rising up inside me. </p>
<p>“Thank you, Spencer,” I said softly; his smile widened at the use of his first name. He looked a little confused, though, and he blinked as he cleared his throat – tucking his hair back again – before asking, </p>
<p>“For what? I didn’t really do –“</p>
<p>“For being you. You’re exactly what I needed,” I told him simply, giving a small shrug, enjoying the genuine happiness that lit up those sweet caramel eyes. </p>
<p>It was, quite honestly, one of the best views I’d ever seen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welcome to Monday! I hope you all had a great week, and I hope this chapter makes this one great as well! You guys seriously make me so happy with all the comments that I hope the updates do the same for you!</p>
<p>What did you think of Aria handling Connor? What about those BAU ladies, huh? And, y'all know I'm dying to hear what you thought of Aria and Spencer this chapter! I know you guys all had guesses as to how it'd play out once the team found out - what are your thoughts? Don't worry, there'll be more to come with the team and Connor!</p>
<p>I want to mention that, even though Hotch is a super-smart law-knowing man, I am definitely not. If  any of you are well-versed in law (because I KNOW at least one of you is, you guys are ridiculously smart and always seem to know these things) and see some inconsistencies, please let me know!</p>
<p>Also, because I get a lot of questions about Aria's height: without her heels she's five foot (and a half) and often she wears between a 4-inch and 5-inch heel. With all the BAU men this puts her right at/just below their shoulder level. With heels, she's just about to their chins. With the women, sans-heels she's at chin height, and with heels she's just a couple inches under them. I did a quick photoshop picture of her with the groups to make it easier to picture and put it on recollins.tumblr.com, but I know many of you don't like Tumblr, so I hope this helps you envision them! </p>
<p>I know I say it every time, but I'll keep saying it: you guys seriously make my entire week! I love getting to hear your thoughts and talk with you guys about the story! If you ever have any questions or requests or anything at all for the story, I'm always happy to chat! </p>
<p>Thank you guys so much, and have a beautiful week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Waves Over Sand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I got some feedback on the last chapter, and I'm expecting some on this one so I want to remind y'all that I'm <i>not</i> a lawyer/prosecutor/legal person at all. Also, I'm not from Virginia - I'm from Colorado. My laws here are wildly different in some aspects than they are for Aria. I used the code of Virginia laws from virginia.gov and interpreted them as best I could for the circumstances in the story.</p>
<p>I've never been arrested or dealt with the court system so all the information/proceedings/verbiage used was googled. For reference, I used the 'How Courts Work' resource from americanbar.org, a few friends that have experience in the court system, and videos taken at actual bench trial hearings to be as accurate as possible. I took a lot of wording from actual court transcripts for similar cases. I know this may not be accurate (and I only stress this because y'all are worlds smarter than me and have experience in all this) but I try my best to be factual. </p>
<p>If you DO have any knowledge of the court system, Virginia law, or cases similar to what Aria's going through I would love to have your input on how I can be more accurate!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <span class="u">One Week Ago</span>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The most terrifying part of fighting Connor was knowing we had done everything exactly as it should’ve been done, only to realize we were still six steps behind him. </i>
</p>
<p><i>The arraignment that Monday had been a show of Mr. Sullivan, Connor’s lawyer – no, I’m sorry,</i> my family’s <i>lawyer that had undoubtedly been offered to the sleeze-bag by my parent – attempted to advocate that his rights had somehow been violated in the arrest. When that had been tossed out the window thanks to Hotch and his swift-yet-lawful apprehension methods, things had moved fast. </i></p>
<p>
  <i>Normally, a case like this would’ve taken at least a month from arraignment to sentencing. Between Hotch’s over-preparedness, Mr. Sullivan’s insistence on a speedy trial, and an overwhelmed justice system, it’d been agreed to set the trial date for Friday. Everyone involved was eager to try and move things along as swiftly as possible. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>So far, Hotch had called every single move Connor had made. From the rights-violation bullshit to the measly $500 bond being paid almost immediately, even the fact that no plea bargain was offered… it was like Hotch had written the script Connor and Mr. Sullivan were acting out. We could plan, play-by-play, what their next move would be.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Up until now, at least. We’d just gotten word that Connor’s request to refuse a jury and opt for a bench trial had been approved. It was the first move that didn’t make sense and we couldn’t figure out why Connor would be playing in our favor. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>It was just another piece of his puzzle and Hotch and I were trying to figure out the picture before he finished it. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It’s good for us there won’t be a jury, right?” I asked my stoic, brooding prosecuting attorney, glancing up at him as I paced by yet again. Hotch – standing stone-still a few steps beside me – gave a swift nod. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It’s beneficial that we won’t have to worry about emotion or sympathy swaying a juror, and we’ll only need to worry about convincing one person instead of six.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I knew that tone. I tried to keep the anxiety at bay as I hinted, “but…?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“But, it’s a bold move that statistically helps us more than them. Judge Rumlow is campaigning for a Senate seat, and part of his platform is built on reducing crime,” Hotch explained, brow furrowing a hint deeper with each moment that passed. “In order to deter crime, he normally gives harsher sentences for first-time offenders in an attempt to prevent them from repeating the offenses. A bench trial with Rumlow is something they’d only be doing if they were certain it’d be a benefit for them in the long run.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“So we have to rely on the case you built,” I reasoned, more to calm myself down from the panic trying to creep up on me. “Which we’ve confirmed is pretty damn solid.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>We’d met with Howard Fulton – Rossi’s personal attorney he’d called in for help – just yesterday to triple-cross our T’s and over-dot our I’s. He was so impressed with what Hotch put together he didn’t have a thing to add. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Hotch gave another nod. “We have a very good case. Granted, we’ll probably lose the charges for stalking, but the trespassing and assault with battery should hold up.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Two charges. Two was good. That gave us reason to push for at least twenty-four months in jail, possibly more if Hotch could get him for aggravated assault. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I shouldn’t have fought back,” I sighed, regretting my actions exactly like I knew I would. “Besides leaving marks on him, it just keeps you from going for aggravated battery, too. If he’d done more damage to me –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m thankful I don’t have grounds to request aggravated battery. Scraped knees are more than should’ve happened to you in the first place,” he cut in, falling quiet for a moment. His eyes flicked away from me as he offered yet again, “we can still ask to postpone the hearing, and we can ask Howard to step in as your prosecutor instead.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>My face softened and I paused my pacing to look up at him. He met my eyes, and  couldn’t put his mask back in place quick enough. The guilt he kept adamantly denying had just seemed to grow heavier with each day that went by.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I don’t want Howard. I want Prosecutor Hotch,” I insisted again, smiling in an attempt to get him to smile in return. When he just pressed his lips together in a displeased frown I continued softly, “it wasn’t your fault, okay? I’m perfectly fine. I mean, I bet I won’t even have scars thanks to Spencer. Please stop blaming yourself.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Aria –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“There’s no one I’d rather have fighting for me than you,” I told him simply, hoping he could hear the honesty in my voice – and that he’d pay attention to it.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He sighed, and though he still refused to agree to my request, our ongoing argument was put on hold when we caught sight of the team filing into the courthouse. Spencer’s eyes were the first to meet mine. The comforting smile he gave soothed the panic in my chest almost instantly, hope peeking out from the dark shadows around us as the others gathered with Hotch and I. With the team backing us up, I felt like we might just pull this off.</i>
</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>
  <i>“With all due respect, your honor, the plaintiff’s claims of stalking are circumstantial at best, and direct slander at its worst. Every instance of my client’s encounters with Ms. DiMaggio in the last month were happenstance and her claims of feeling unsafe were of her own opinion. They hold no more fact than if she were to say she felt unsafe right now.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Though Hotch kept his face completely void of emotion, I saw the tendons in his hands flex as he methodically gathered his papers. As Mr. Sullivan settled back into his seat, the judge studied the evidence in front of him for a moment. Finally, he cleared his throat and then peered down at Hotch over his glasses.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I see that you’ve stated there was an incident between your client and the defendant prior to this, is that correct?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yes, your honor,” Hotch agreed, getting to his feet. “In 2005, the defendant attacked my client and –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection,” Mr. Sullivan called; Hotch’s steeled gaze snapped to him. “Hearsay. It was an alleged attack. There were never any charges pressed, and witness statements support my client not being involved –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Before the judge could respond, Hotch pulled one of the papers out of his stack and held it out towards him. “I have here both Ms. DiMaggio’s hospital records from that night and photos from the attack. Though circumstantial, the evidence clearly shows that my client was strangled and that the defendant had lashed out earlier in the evening, causing damage to property in the home as well as incidental damage to my client.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection!” Mr. Sullivan called incredulously. “There is no factual evidence to support it was my client that caused the injuries to the plaintiff.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The judge beckoned him forward and Hotch passed him the papers. After a few moments of flipping through them he sat them aside and folded his hands. “Is there anything further than the circumstantial evidence in regard to the attack in 2005?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I could see Hotch’s jaw tick as he took a breath. “No, your honor. However, the photos of Ms. DiMaggio’s injuries show clear hand-shaped marks, which –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Which only show that she was injured by someone, but doesn’t tie her injuries to my client,” Mr. Sullivan interrupted again. “I’d like to present witness testimonies from the responding officer on-scene and the plaintiff’s father, both stating that there was no implication past Ms. DiMaggio’s accusations that Mr. Aldridge was the one who injured her. These statements also support that Ms. DiMaggio has made similar unsupported claims against my client, showing it’s habitual for her to continuously defame him.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Sad as it was, I’d been the one to call THAT petty move. The moment Hotch profiled that Connor would try to gather witnesses for himself, I knew the first place he’d turn to was my own family. And, clearly, they really did love him more than me.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection sustained,” Judge Rumlow decided after just moments of studying the statements, nodding to Mr. Sullivan. Hotch turned to set his papers back at the desk and grab another file of evidence, catching my eye for just a moment. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The hope I’d been clinging to was starting to dissolve. With each objection Judge Rumlow accepted, with each piece of our evidence that was thrown out, we were inching closer and closer to the fact that somehow, Connor might get out of this completely free.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I didn’t want to accept that option, but the concern in Hotch’s troubled gaze made me see how real of a possibility it was starting to become.</i>
</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>
  <i>“Did you witness my client attacking Ms. DiMaggio?” Mr. Sullivan pressed, pacing past Penelope again. Her face pinched together in frustration. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I – no, but I saw him cornering her, he was blocking her so she couldn’t –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection, hearsay,” he snapped, cutting her off for what had to be the hundredth time. “This is what the witness was told by the plaintiff, not what she actually saw take place.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection sustained,” Judge Rumlow agreed again. Thank god he wasn’t looking at me. I’d lost control of my facial expressions two ‘objections’ into JJ’s questioning and it hadn’t gotten any better with Emily’s. Now, it seemed we were about to be zero-and-three on witnesses. “You may continue.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Mr. Sullivan folded his hands behind his back and turned to Penelope once again. “After witnessing my client and the plaintiff in their discussion, you then left to retrieve Ms. Prentiss and Ms. Jareau, is that correct?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yes,” Penelope answered quietly. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“So your knowledge of her alleged assault only comes from what you were told by the plaintiff?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I – yes, but her pantyhose were ripped and she skinned her knees  –“ </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Mr. Sullivan scoffed and cut in snidely, “which could’ve simply been from Ms. DiMaggio falling of her own accord –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection, leading the witness,” Hotch barked. Judge Rumlow paused, but then finally he nodded in our favor. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection sustained. Mr. Sullivan, please rephrase the question.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He furrowed his brow, throwing a quick glance to Hotch before he turned to pace past Penelope. “Did you witness Ms. DiMaggio being pushed by my client?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“… no, but –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“So, therefore, it would be reasonable to say that one of the ways Ms. DiMaggio could’ve been injured was simply from falling of her own accord –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection, it’s the same question,” Hotch snapped again, but this time Judge Rumlow held up a hand. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Objection overruled. The question was not posed to lead the witness. Ms. Garcia, please give your response.”  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Penelope’s eyes met mine in a silent apology as she said softly, “yes, sir. It’s possible.”</i>
</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>
  <i>My hands were trembling. I’d tangled my fingers into my dress hours ago, trying to keep my nerves at bay, but with each word that left Mr. Sullivan’s mouth, it was like Connor was being pushed farther and farther into innocent light.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Hotch’s closing argument had been solid. He’d gone back through the bits of evidence Judge Rumlow hadn’t dismissed, weaving a solid picture of the hell Connor had put me through the last month – specifically in the last handful of weeks. He’d openly rescinded the charges for stalking and harassment (what, with Rumlow practically tanking everything we’d brought up to support it). Admittedly, we really didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but the rest seemed enough to carry us through and get the conviction we wanted. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I’d just started to feel good about our chances, until Mr. Sullivan had given his closing argument.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“While it’s true that the defendant did enter into private property against the posted signs, there’s nothing further than hearsay and circumstantial evidence to show it was done with malicious intent,” Mr. Sullivan drawled to the jury, waving his hand to enunciate the dismissive tone he’d been using. “As explained, Mr. Aldridge has a long-standing relationship with Ms. DiMaggio and her family. He was simply attempting to discuss the unwarranted emergency protective order so he didn’t need to press charges against her for slander and libel, as there is clear evidence to have done so.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>And, just as Hotch thought he would, he threw a curveball to the jury. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Your honor, my client is a dedicated, hardworking young man. He’s a beloved member of his community, he’s the youngest sales manager his dealership has ever appointed, and he’s looking to follow his father’s footsteps and campaign for city council next term. He’s an upstanding citizen, and to condemn him and throw away his bright and promising future on weak, opinionated accusations from a jilted lover would be an unspeakable injustice.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>does not present a risk to Ms. DiMaggio, as is evident by the retracted charges of stalking and harassment, and the basis of the aggravated assault and alleged battery are based on circumstantial evidence that does not prove the defendant’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He gave a nod to end his speech and all but sauntered back to Connor’s side, casting a smug smile in our direction as the courtroom fell to silence. All eyes fell to Judge Rumlow, waiting to hear the decision he’d reached. Slowly, he took his glasses off and folded his hands on the table, leaning forward. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“In having entered private property that was clearly marked as such, and refusing to leave after being asked to do so, on indictment of section 18.2-119, this court finds the defendant guilty.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Hotch took my hand beneath the table and gave a gentle squeeze. Guilty. Connor was guilty. It was just trespassing so far, but Connor. Was. Guilty. God, I wished I could’ve seen past Mr. Sullivan to get a look at the inevitable shock on his stupid face. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Though there is circumstantial evidence that supports the possibility of assault towards the plaintiff, this evidence does not prove beyond reasonable doubt that the defendant had intent to cause harm, nor that he was the cause of the injuries the plaintiff sustained. On indictment of section 18.2-57, assault and battery, the court finds the defendant not guilty.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>My breath left me, the words hitting me hard in the stomach. Not guilty on assault?! That was practically Connor’s middle name! And if we hadn’t managed to sway Judge Rumlow on THOSE charges…</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And finally, on indictment of section 18.2-60.3, stalking and harassment, there is no evidence that supports the defendant was pursuing the plaintiff in a threatening or harmful manner, and the court finds the defendant not guilty.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>One.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>One charge out of three. </i>
</p>
<p><i>Somehow, we’d come out swinging, we’d prepared for Connor and met him at every crooked turn he made, and we’d still fallen short. All that was left to hope for was that Judge Rumlow would at least uphold the maximum 12-month jail time that came with the measly bit of justice he’d tossed our way.</i> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The ride back from the courthouse was a quiet one. </p>
<p>Last week, it’d been heated and furious. I don’t think I’d stopped foaming at the mouth until we reached Quantico. And then, with the rest of the team riled up, I’d just started at it again. Hotch had been – much to my agitated pleasure – quite vocal about the judge’s ruling. We went back through the evidence we’d presented, we played through the events that Hotch had walked Rumlow around… it was solid. <i>Solid</i>. We were just as baffled as the rest of the team had been at the weak verdict. </p>
<p>How had that <i>not</i> been enough to charge him with assault – aggravated or not? And come <i>on</i>, the battery? The scraped knees, okay. Granted, I got them from falling but I didn’t just flop to the ground on my own accord. Did they really believe I’d gotten the marks on my upper arms by <i>tripping</i>? What did they want, bruises that spelled out <i>Connor Was Here</i>?!</p>
<p>It had been infuriating, to say the least, but there was still the sentencing to be given. It’s what fueled our fury. We still had that hope that the justice system wouldn’t completely fail us. We’d gotten the trespassing to stick. He’d illegally refused to leave private, federal property. It wasn’t a felony but didn’t it show his disregard for anything other than himself? </p>
<p>Last week there had been hope. Today, there was silence. </p>
<p>The sentence given to Connor hung so heavily over us I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. Whether I was on the verge of tears or seconds away from destroying everything in my reach, I still couldn’t tell. </p>
<p>Three months. <i>Three fucking months</i>. Connor only had to serve ninety days in jail – back in Colorado in minimum-security – and then he had a hundred hours of community service. And that was that. </p>
<p>Years of abuse, months of harassment, countless days of fear and anxiety and trauma and suffering were all supposed to be patched over and excused after <i>three fucking months</i>? </p>
<p>Judge Rumlow’s decision bit into me over and over; the words burned through my veins like venom. It was honest to god <i>sickening</i> to know that even with evidence, with witnesses, the whole nine yards, Connor had still essentially gotten away with this. </p>
<p>“<i>A minimal sentencing, I think, is a fair decision. The time in jail will help emphasize the seriousness of the situation. Probation is a fair exchange for a longer incarceration when the defendant is youthful and has no significant record of prior criminal offenses. I have considered the character letters that have been provided by Mr. Aldridge’s friends, family, and colleagues, which indicate a long-standing period of model behavior. A long prison sentence for a single, non-violent crime would have, I believe, an unfair long-standing impact on a young man’s otherwise bright future.”</i></p>
<p>He didn’t want to ruin Connor’s future from one mistake. Yeah, god forbid the precious little Aldridge boy have to answer for the hell he put me through. Wouldn’t want to deprive him of having a cushy life free of repercussions –</p>
<p>My phone rang and scared the absolute daylights out of me. I flinched so hard I actually made Hotch start. When he heard me huff and throw my phone back into my purse, he waited until my ringtone faded out and finally cleared his throat for the first time that morning. </p>
<p>“Mom or dad?”</p>
<p>“Mom,” I sighed, slumping back and folding my arms over my chest, staring out the window at the snowy landscape as I fought to swallow the bile rising up in me. “I’m sure they just heard their precious Connor got a slap on the wrist and they’re out for blood. Mom’s call is my warning before the ‘big guns’ come out.”</p>
<p>And, sure enough, before I’d even finished talking, my phone was ringing again. We sat through the music, and in the silence that followed I felt the same sickness and frustration from all those years ago settling over me. Arm propped on the door, I dropped my face into my hand and shut my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. </p>
<p>When my phone rang again I didn’t even move. </p>
<p>“It’s hard to defend the value of the judicial system when you see it fail so terribly,” Hotch said quietly after the music stopped again. There was frustration in his voice, but there was also the hint of betrayal laced within. His job – <i>our</i> job – was to uphold the laws and the workings of the very system that had just screwed me six ways to Sunday. How could we put our faith in justice when there was the chance it wouldn’t be given?</p>
<p>He’d fought for countless others like he’d fought for me and I couldn’t help but wonder… How many times had he seen this happen? How many people like me had lost to sociopathic manipulators, professional liars, a sweet-talking lawyer – how many had lost because the truth wasn’t as believable as the lies that were fed to the court? </p>
<p>“What do we do now?” I asked him, voice tight with the emotion I was fighting to hold back. I knew Hotch heard it. </p>
<p>“We can use the trespassing charge to rally for the protective order against him,” he began, but I was already shaking my head at that.</p>
<p>“Hotch, we had three witnesses testify that I was attacked by him and we still –“ my ringtone blasted <i>again</i> and I irritably snatched my phone, hitting the <i>end</i> button and biting back a snarl of frustration. “We still didn’t have enough evidence to convict him.”</p>
<p>He nodded in understanding, glancing over at me for a heartbeat, taking in the unmasked pain and fury on my face. “We can work with Howard. I’ll still be your prosecutor,” he added when he heard me take a breath to argue. “But he’s an attorney for high-status clients like Dave. He has a lot of experience with stalking and harassment that could –“</p>
<p>The fifth time my ringtone went off I lost it. I hadn’t planned to talk anyone associated with Connor ever again, but after the day I’d had I wasn’t feeling particularly passive. </p>
<p>“What?” I snapped the second I answered, jamming the speaker button and holding my phone up so Hotch could hear too. There was a flurry of commotion in the background, a car door slamming shut, and then the shuffling of the phone going to his ear when my dad realized I’d actually answered. </p>
<p>“Where the <i>hell</i> do you get off, ruining that boy’s future?!” he snarled, and before I could even quip out a smart reply he pressed, “it’s bad enough you insist on ruining your <i>own</i> life, but do you have any idea the kind of repercussions he’ll be facing now? After the way you’ve smeared his name –“</p>
<p>“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I told him idly. Whether it was the rage or the adrenaline making me shake, I had no idea, but I was proud when my voice came out smooth. “The bruises Connor left this time aren’t as deep as before, and thankfully my friends were there to protect me before he could make another attempt on my life.”</p>
<p>There was a brief pause as his minimal patience with me boiled over, and when he replied his voice was just as dangerously calm as my own. “Aria, your dramatics are childish and unnecessary, and I would think you’d know so at this point in your life. Do you understand that this is not a game? Your actions have consequences, <i>do you understand</i>? That boy’s future is in jeopardy because you continue to feel the need to act out for attention –“</p>
<p>“Thanks for saying that I’d lied about him hurting me before. Not only is it illegal to lie in a character statement like that,” I continued on, acting like I hadn’t heard him. “It really just warms my heart to know that you would lie about your own daughter to help the guy that’s abused me for years –“</p>
<p>“He’s the son I never had,” my father spat, managing to strike every raw nerve in my body with those six words in the way only he could. He was as bad as Connor in his own twisted methods, just as manipulative and underhanded and almost more dangerous because he had the advantage of knowing my entire life story. He knew jabs at Jude cut straight through me and he wasn’t pulling punches today. “Connor is the only one of my children that values and respects this family and all I’ve done for it, so you’ll be damned sure that I’ll defend <i>him</i> over your baseless lies. He’s more a member of this family than you are at this point.”</p>
<p>Instead of snarling at him and dropping to his level like he wanted (despite how good being petty would feel right now) I bit my tongue and let the silence draw out several moments. Hotch’s hand reached out and unexpectedly took hold of my own. My lip trembled; he was giving me his silent, grounding support. I had to take a few deep breaths to compose myself before I managed to say simply, “you’re right. Connor’s a bigoted, narcissistic sadist that deserves nothing more than rotting in a jailcell surrounded by the bullshit he constantly spews. I really see the family resemblance <i>dad</i> –“</p>
<p>“Your childish attitude is just as pathetic as this little cry for attention,” he growled; I could practically <i>hear</i> that vein in his forehead popping out. Hotch’s hand tightened minutely around my own; he was just as furious as I was. “You truly do destroy everything around you at every chance you get. What’s even worse is I see you’ve gotten your sister in on this act as well, asking her to take your side against the rest of us, trying to turn her against your mother and I. You’re trying to tear apart everything I’ve built up and I won’t allow it, Aria. I won’t. You and your dramatic games need to stop –”</p>
<p>“Right. You think I’d actually go to court over this just because I wanted you to pay attention to me? Have I really underestimated just how deep your stupidity runs?” I scoffed. My own temper was nearly boiling but my refusal to let my dad get the satisfaction of riling me up was more determined than my dangerously-short fuse. My hold on Hotch’s hand was probably bordering on painful but he didn’t move to pull away. Without him holding tight I’d be flying off the handle, completely unhinged. “Let me assure you that my world doesn’t revolve around getting recognition from the man who’s can’t even remember my birthday –“</p>
<p>“Enough of your smart-ass attitude,” he snarled; I heard the phone creaking as his grip tightened. “Listen to me, Aria. We are going <i>right now</i> to pick up our lawyer from the airport. We will be vying for an early release and an expungement of his unnecessary record you’ve now given him, and you will be assisting us in –“ </p>
<p>“No, I won’t.”</p>
<p>Hotch’s lips twitched up at my instant reply and he gave my hand a supporting squeeze. There was another pause on the other end of the phone, and then an incredulous, “<i>excuse me</i>?”</p>
<p>“You know what I said. You’re getting old but I’m pretty sure your hearing isn’t <i>that</i> bad.” I got a full smile out of Hotch at that. “I won’t be helping Connor <i>at all</i>. He deserves every single thing handed to him today. He deserves <i>more</i> than what he got today, and with the help of the people who actually care about me, I’ll be pursuing every legal action against that son of a bitch that I can. There’s no way in hell I’ll be doing anything to help him get out of punishment again.” </p>
<p>“You’ve gone too far this time,” he hissed. “You are ruining a man’s career – his <i>reputation</i> – just because you have nothing better to do with your time. After <i>all</i> Steve and Mary have done for this family, to turn around and condemn their son like this is unspeakable. Unless you reassess what you’re doing, you can consider yourself dead to us.” </p>
<p>“Sounds wonderful, Rick. Enjoy my funeral for me,” I quipped, hanging up before he could reply. </p>
<p>My phone instantly started ringing and I turned it off, tossing it back into my purse as we fell into silence. One hand held tight to Hotch’s, and the other came up to bury my face in. I had no idea if my tears were from the pain of this morning, the frustration of my dad, or the exhaustion that Connor always brought onto me. Honestly, at this point, it was probably all of the above. </p>
<p>Hotch’s thumb ran in gentle circles over the back of my hand as I cried quietly, breath coming in shaky gasps, the ache in my chest enough to double me over in the seat. I hadn’t noticed the car stop, hadn’t seen us pulling into the parking garage, but suddenly Hotch had pulled his hand free and he was out of the car in the next moment. </p>
<p>I was so surprised at the sudden loss of him that I fully stopped my sobbing, righting myself and looking around for him in hurt confusion. My own car door opened and then suddenly my seatbelt had been unbuckled and I was pulled into a tight embrace. </p>
<p>My face buried into his chest and I broke down again. My hands fisted into his suit jacket like I was holding onto him for dear life. Right now, that’s what it felt like. His hands ran up and down my back, giving a steady rhythm that washed over me like waves over sand. With every pass, he slowly started pulling the venom to the surface, drawing out each drop of poison that had infected me.  </p>
<p>“They’re protecting him,” I sobbed against his shirt. “It’s always him. Why – why is his future the only one that counts?”</p>
<p>Another pass of his arms, another drop pulled free. </p>
<p>“Why does no one see him for what he really is?” His hands slid up and down my back a few more times before I choked out, “<i>why</i> does he keep getting away with hurting me?”</p>
<p>Several more runs his steady hands on my shaking back brought nothing but furious, aching sobs, and finally the question that hurt the most was pulled out of me.</p>
<p>“Why don’t I matter, Hotch?”</p>
<p>His hands stilled and for several long moments he just held me as I cried. Finally, though, his hand came up to hold the back of my head gently, cradling me against him so tenderly it actually took my breath away and for a heartbeat my crying tapered out. </p>
<p>Just like my dad should have. </p>
<p>He should’ve been here with me, fighting for me, protecting me from Connor and doing every single thing in his power to keep me safe. Rick Taylor had essentially disowned me, but did it really matter if he was never completely my dad? Did it matter when I had Hotch?</p>
<p>“To the right people you do,” Hotch promised me, and when he pulled back I blinked the tears out of my eyes to stare up at him. “And… I believe these would be the right people.”</p>
<p>As subtle as a brick through a window, the rest of our team had huddled themselves around Emily’s car. None of them were looking at us but it was clear it was taking every single bit of self-restraint they collectively had to keep from coming over. </p>
<p>I choked out a watery laugh and the moment Hotch nodded they swarmed us. Somehow Penelope managed to wedge herself in the space between myself and the car door, her arms instantly enveloping me. Hotch stepped back to give her room to wash me in unconditional love, but he kept his hand secure on my shoulder. </p>
<p>Morgan, Emily, and JJ gathered beside Penelope and Spencer ended up in front of me. His soft gaze swept over me, honey-brown eyes gentle and soothing and exactly what I needed. Suddenly I didn’t care what the others thought, I didn’t care how it would look... I just wanted Spencer. </p>
<p>My arms went up and though I felt childish, he instantly obliged my silent request. He stepped up and ducked down to fold himself around me and my face pressed into his shoulder. <i>Books, leather, coffee.</i> The comforting scent of Spencer wreathed around me, settling deep in my lungs and soothing the still-burning ache inside of me just a little more. </p>
<p>“I take it the sentencing didn’t make up for the verdict,” Rossi sighed, hands settling into his pants pockets as he looked between us. Spencer pulled back from the hug and, without me even noticing, Penelope had scooted herself and the others down a few steps to make room for <i>him</i> at my side instead. </p>
<p>Despite the situation she still sent me a devilish wink. Apparently, best friend meddling never took a break. Right now, having Spencer at my side, being able to lean into him and feel him leaning back… I was okay with her playful scheming. </p>
<p>“Three months, a hundred hours of service,” Hotch reported. It was Emily that reacted first, scoffing in disgust as she asked indignantly, </p>
<p>“Are you serious? That’s all he’s getting?”</p>
<p>Morgan’s arms folded tightly over his chest; I didn’t miss the look he shot to Hotch. He was smart enough not to say anything out loud – at least, not in front of me – but the message was clear. He still felt like this was partially Hotch’s fault. </p>
<p>“Can’t we appeal the decision or something?” Penelope asked hopefully. Unsurprisingly it was Spencer that shook his head and explained, </p>
<p>“No. An appeal would be revisiting the case and essentially going to court for the same situation.  In the fifth amendment there’s a clause called <i>double jeopardy</i> that prohibits a person from being prosecuted twice for the same time. A defendant has the option to appeal a decision made about them, but the plaintiff can’t have the case reassessed.”</p>
<p>Penelope was quiet for a moment, her normally bright face darkening with frustration. “Well that’s just <i>total</i> bullshit.” All seven of us turned to look at her in shock and she blinked at us in alarm. “What?”</p>
<p>“You <i>never</i> curse,” JJ laughed. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard a cuss word leave your mouth.”</p>
<p>“Well, you know, sometimes the situation just needs that spiciness!” she defended, throwing her hands up, jingling as her jewelry bounced around. It was so soft and Penelope-esque I couldn’t help but smile up at her. </p>
<p>JJ, still chuckling, turned to look up at Hotch. “Alright, so this didn’t work out. Now what?”</p>
<p>“We can pursue the protective order. I plan to start putting together another case centering around his trespassing charges. It should give extra leverage to help us prove a need to keep him away from Aria,” Hotch explained; he was already set on attacking Connor at the next opportunity he’d get. </p>
<p>“I’ll talk with Howard,” Rossi offered instantly. “We can pull some strings, bring in the big guns and hit that stupid kid where it hurts.”</p>
<p><i>If that’s not code for calling in the mafia, I don’t know what is,</i> I thought to myself as JJ added, </p>
<p>“I’ll have the court send me over the transcript of the hearing. We can pull from the testimonies and use them alongside character witness statements.”</p>
<p>“We can give statements for Aria <i>and</i> that asshole, right?” Emily asked.</p>
<p>“<i>Skeevy JerkFace</i>,” Penelope volunteered, getting a collective snort from Em, Morgan, and JJ. </p>
<p>When Hotch nodded in answer to Emily’s question, her face settled into a dangerously determined scowl. “Good. I’ll rip him apart with words until I get my hands on him.”</p>
<p>As the others kept going, I looked around at them all. Every single one of them was here at my side, ready to fight Connor. They weren’t asking me to prove <i>beyond a reasonable doubt</i> that he’d hurt me. Hell, before they’d ever actually seen the guy, Penny, Hotch, and Spencer were rallying behind me. </p>
<p>My own parents had chosen to support the man who had tried to kill me with his bare hands. They’d picked him over their daughter, they’d backed him up and lied for him instead of trusting me and protecting me. </p>
<p>Hotch was right. The right people <i>did</i> care about me. Hotch, Penelope, Spencer, Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Rossi were with me. They were my family now, they were the ones with me in this, defending me with all they had and loving me in ways I’d never been loved before. </p>
<p>I hadn’t noticed I was crying – <i>again</i> – until the hand Hotch still had on my shoulder gave a squeeze. “Aria?”</p>
<p>The others fell quiet and looked over in concern as I quickly wiped my cheeks off, sniffing and shaking my head. “I – I’m okay. Really,” I added when their expressions didn’t waiver. “I just… thank you guys. I can’t – there’s no way to tell you how much this means to me.”</p>
<p>JJ smiled softly and stepped forward beside Spencer, her hand taking mine and holding tight. “We’re family. We’re with you, no matter what.”</p>
<p>“The justice system failed you,” Hotch said quietly, his words from earlier coming back to me. His gaze was resolute, though, and nothing but honesty laced his words as he promised, “Judge Rumlow didn’t choose to protect you, but we will.”</p>
<p>As the others all nodded Morgan added, “that sunnova bitch is gonna get his ass handed to him, sunshine. I guarantee it. Whether it’s legally, or whether it’s me breakin’ his skeevy little ass in half, he’s gonna regret messin’ with <i>our</i> family.”</p>
<p>It was Emily that stepped up to me, a softness in her gaze that I rarely saw. She was so closed-off most of the time, but right now her dark eyes were burning bright with empathy. She truly understood the pain I felt, and though it was comforting to know she could relate, I knew exactly why she <i>could</i> relate. </p>
<p>She’d been through something similar. Maybe not exactly like Connor, but someone had hurt her the way I was hurting now, and I knew her. She wanted to fix my pain because she couldn’t fix her own. </p>
<p>Emily saw the understanding settle my eyes and she gave a small smile, glad I’d caught on. She held out her hand to me, urging me up. Pushing me silently to stand up, to not let Connor hold me down. <i>Don’t let him have any power over you.</i></p>
<p>The moment I took her hand she pulled me to my feet. Though she didn’t hug me nearly as tight as Hotch had (really, I didn’t think anyone could match his dad-hugs) the meaning in her hold was just as powerful. </p>
<p>
  <i>You are not alone.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welcome to Monday, you beautiful souls! I hope the last week treated you well, and that this week will be even better!</p>
<p>I know this is a little shorter of a chapter, but I wanted the trial to be a stand-alone thing before we kept going. What are your thoughts on the verdict? On Connor and his smarmy (I really like that word) lawyer? Aria's call with her 'dad'? I'm excited to hear back!</p>
<p>I wanted to see what y'all would like for the next chapter - are you ready to get into another episode, or would you like a filler? I'm open to doing either, so if you have a preference (and if you have a specific filler you'd like to see - girl's night, Aria meeting Jack, Aria and Spencer, etc) please let me know! </p>
<p>Thank you all for being the best part of my week. I love you guys, have an amazing day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Breath of Fresh Air</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/636242240304513024/chapter-30-is-up">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Blood is dripping heavily from the cut beneath my eye. It’s hard to see from the swelling that’s already started, but I’m pretty certain it’s all over my outfit by now.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>So much for sneaking Aubrianna’s new dress without getting caught; my sister’s gonna kill me. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>A hand cups my chin and gently tilts my head up again, and I come face to face with Jude’s dark green gaze.  His eyes glint emerald in the twilight glow; the last remnants of the setting sun sinking behind him illuminate my brother in a soft, ethereal halo. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I’m pretty sure he’s just an angel pretending to be a human. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Despite the fury I know is burning inside him, my big brother chuckles. I realize I accidentally said that last part out loud and slur out a weak, “sorry. That was an inside-brain thought.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“See? More dangers of drinking,” he chides gently, dabbing at my cheek with a damp washcloth. “I kept telling you it’s not worth it.”</i>
</p>
<p><i>“Well</i> you <i>drink,” I mumble in an admittedly-pathetic attempt to lessen my own guilt. Now I get an eye-roll from him too. “What? You do. I’ve seen you.”</i></p>
<p>
  <i>“I know I do,” he dismisses. There’s a tone of self-hatred laced within his own words that’s so bitter I grimace at the taste. “Just because I do something doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do, A.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>We fall into another heavy silence as my brother cleans up my face. His touch is feather-soft and barely-there, but I can still feel his fingers shaking. He’s trying to stay calm for my sake, but the more times we have to do this, the less he’s able to hold back. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>It’s wrong for him to be so mad. So upset. Jude’s not an angry person. He’s soft and kind and gentle. Fury isn’t right on him; it’s unsettling and I want to fix it. I have to fix it. It’s my fault he’s upset. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He didn’t mean to hurt –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Aria,” he cuts in almost instantly. His voice is tight and heavy with all he’s trying to hold back. The sound of my full name coming from Jude is just as disconcerting as the self-hatred. “Don’t justify this for him. Please don’t.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He just gets mad sometimes. It’s not his fault,” I whisper; my gaze falls to my bloodstained lap at the look that comes over Jude’s face. It’s no secret he hates Connor, and if possible, Connor hates my brother even more. “If I hadn’t made him angry –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jude tosses the washcloth onto the counter beside me and takes a deep breath, running his hands through his always-messy curls before letting them fall heavily to his sides. “What could you have possibly done to make it excusable for him to hurt you?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I told him –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Large hands cup my face and tip my head back up. I’m prepared to see more anger, maybe the annoyance like I always saw on Connor’s. Instead there’s only sadness. A deep, aching grief that shimmers in the tears pooling in my brother’s eyes. </i>
</p>
<p><i>“Trick question, Little A,” he says softly, lips pressing together. He doesn’t do it quick enough to hide the tremor they give. “There’s</i> nothing <i>you could have done to make this alright. There’s not a single thing on this earth that justifies</i> anyone <i>hurting you.”</i></p>
<p>
  <i>We fall quiet again, but Jude doesn’t look away. There are dozens of things he wants to say, but just like me, he can’t figure out how to say them. The alcohol makes everything fuzzy, and I can tell my blood sugar is much, much higher than it should be. Focusing is hard, but I make myself piece together the question I want to ask. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Would –“ instantly I stop and Jude frowns at the pause. “Are mom and dad… can they hear us?” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Their room is just on the other side of the hall, and I cast a wary look over Jude’s shoulder, half expecting the door to swing open and give me my answer. Instead, my brother shakes his head, studying me curiously, trying to figure out my question before I ask it. When he accepts the fact he can’t, he relents, “no, they’re asleep.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Still lowering my voice just in case, I ask him, “would Malcolm ever hit you?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Our parents don’t know about Malcolm, and it’s a shame. He’s the nicest guy – besides my brother – I’ve ever met. Anyone that makes Jude smile the way Malcolm can is pretty high up in my book. My brother slips his hands up my face, pushing my own curls back behind my ears gently as he shakes his head. “Never.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Not even if you made him really mad?” I press, and Jude’s shaking his head before I finish speaking, so I tack on, “even if you – if you told him you’d stepped in dog shit that had more value than he does?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The sadness slowly dims as surprise takes over Jude’s face, his brows raising up to his hairline as he stares down at me. Instead of answering me he asks, “what exactly did he do to finally earn himself a bit of your sass?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m not sassy,” I mumble, trying to avoid answering the question. His gaze still hasn’t left mine, and I know he won’t let me change the subject. “He… cheated on me. Again. Ella Whitcomb.”</i>
</p>
<p><i>Jude’s rolling his eyes before I finish speaking, and then pulls a face when the name I mention finally registers. “Ella? That dickweed is dating</i> YOU <i>and he goes after someone like Ella? Jesus, I knew the guy was stupid, but this drops him to a whole new level.”</i></p>
<p>
  <i>Despite all the other emotions at war within me still, I give a watery, hiccupy laugh and roll my eyes right back at him. “You’re just bein’ nice ‘cause you’re my brother. You have to.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Not true. Ask Aubri, I’m not a nice brother,” he tries to argue. Even though I’m seeing three of him, I try to focus on the one in front of me when I give a doubtful frown. If possible, he’s even sweeter to our sister than he is to me. “I’m honest. I won’t lie to you, which makes me an asshole. It also means I’ll always be candid with you whether you like what I have to say or not. Y’know, like how stupid you are for drinking. Or how screwed you are when Aubs sees her dress.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Right. Shit. I groan and slump forward against his chest. Jude playfully shoves me off him, but he keeps a hold on my shoulders. Probably a wise decision; even sitting on the counter, the room’s still swaying. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You know how to get blood outta cashmere, right?” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jude gives me a dangerous smirk as he steps back and eases me to my feet. “Of course. Getting questionable stains out of fabric is a specialty of mine. Malcolm’s definitely helped me practice –“</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Okay, ew!” I squeak out, weakly smacking my brother as he herds me down the hall, shushing me as he giggles. The last thing we need is mom and dad coming to see what the commotion is about. “I pray this is something I don’t remember in the morning.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Instead of leading me to my room, Jude takes me past it and then nudges me into his. When I look back at him he smiles just a bit. “Aubs is out cold. Get that dress off and I’ll clean it up when I get back.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I’m already starting to wrestle it off when I pause and look back at my brother. “What? Back? Where’re you going?” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>In lieu of an answer he tosses me a pair of his middle school gym shorts and an old tee he got from summer camp over a decade ago. He could deny it all he wanted, but Jude Taylor was secretly a hoarder.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ve got some things to take care of,” he dismisses, digging out his hoodie from the pile of clothes on his floor as I haphazardly get myself out of Aubri’s dress and into my borrowed clothes. He knows me well enough to realize I’m seconds from losing my balance, and before I can even stumble, Jude’s tucking me into his bed. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>There’s a frightened, nagging ache wreathing in my heart as he starts to stand and step away. Just as he pulls the covers up around me, I catch his wrist and hold on tight. I can feel myself fading into the fuzzy, dark abyss of my blackout but try to articulate, “don’t go. Jus’ stay with me.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jude gets a knee up on the mattress, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss to my forehead. When he stands, he gently pulls free of my hold. If I’d known that was the last time I’d see my brother, I wouldn’t have ever let him go. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>There are tears in my eyes. On some cosmic, spiritual level I know that if he leaves he’s never coming back. In my heart I know that this is it but I’m too far gone to fight my brother backing away. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ll be home before you know it, Little A,” he tells me, and now the tears roll down my cheeks. He’s nothing more than a silhouette in the doorway. My hand weakly reaches up, desperate to pull him back to me. It doesn’t make sense to me, it really doesn’t. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jude had been telling the truth earlier, just like he always did. No matter how much of a jerk it made him come off to be sometimes, he never lied. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Why would he make a promise he wasn’t going to keep? </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Why wouldn’t he ever come home?</i>
</p>
<p>The ache in my chest was so powerful it pulled me out of my fitful sleep. My tear-filled eyes flew open and I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to push aside the remnants of the sick sadness sloshing through me. It’d been a long time since I’d dreamt of Jude and, as much as I missed my big brother, it’d been nice not having to go through the vivid recall of that awful night. </p>
<p>Sleep was supposed to take me away from all the heartache and hell I had to deal with. Having it come after me when I wasn’t even conscious just wasn’t fair.  </p>
<p>My heart was still pounding, but now that I was awake, the near-constant cloud of exhaustion hanging over me settled onto my shoulders yet again. Wearily, I peaked at my alarm clock and frowned. <i>8:03am</i>. Despite having slept for almost ten hours, somehow I felt even more tired than I had last night. </p>
<p> <i>God, I need a break. This stress is gonna kill me</i>, I sighed, slumping back against my pillow and draping an arm over my face. I’d just sleep a little more, then. Spending one of my few days off just laying in bed wasn’t what I wanted to do, necessarily, but the thought of having to be a functioning member of society…</p>
<p>I was dozing off again in just a couple minutes. </p>
<p>In fact, I was nearly asleep once more when my phone started buzzing on my nightstand. With a barely-stifled groan, I reached out and blindly felt around beside me with the arm not over my face. Finally snagging it, I hit <i>answer</i> and mumbled out, </p>
<p>“H’lo?”</p>
<p>“Aria, it’s –“ Hotch’s comforting voice paused; I could feel the frown over the phone. “Did I wake you?”</p>
<p>“<i>Mmm</i>,” I partially confirmed as I stifled a yawn. “It’s fine, though. I’m up – wait. I mean, what’s up?”</p>
<p>There was another heartbeat of silence, and then he confirmed, “you were still asleep?”</p>
<p>“I – <i>still</i>?!” I scoffed, eyes snapping open again as I lifted my arm off my face to glare at the alarm clock yet again. “It’s barely 8am! On a <i>Saturday</i>!”</p>
<p>“I’ll take that as a yes.”</p>
<p>“Hate to break it to you, but normal humans actually require sleep,” I muttered, flopping back down onto my mattress. At his poorly-stifled chuckling, I bit out, “did you need something?”</p>
<p>“Yes, actually,” he segued, clearing his throat and swallowing the rest of his laughter. “I wanted to see if you might be able to watch Jack for a couple hours later today. Haley and I have a meeting with the marriage counselor this afternoon. We’d planned to have her sister watch him but she had something come up. I know this is last minute –“</p>
<p>“Of course I can!” I said instantly, sitting up as the exhaustion all but disappeared. Again, Hotch was quiet for a moment before he asked doubtfully, </p>
<p>“Really? You’re sure? It’s your weekend –“</p>
<p>“Absolutely positive,” I cut in without hesitation, all but grinning. His words registered with me and I asked eagerly, “you’re really trying the counseling thing we talked about?”</p>
<p>On the flight back from our last case, we’d spent the whole trip talking about his marriage. It was clear Haley’s patience with his demanding job was wearing thinner with each case he left on, and with all he’d done for me with Connor, I’d wanted to find a way to help <i>him</i>.</p>
<p>He’d been skeptical about it a few days ago, but when he answered me now I could hear the small smile in his voice. “We are. Haley liked the suggestion. With how fast we can get called away, I wanted us to get at least one session in before next week, but with Jessica tied up today…”</p>
<p>“Just give me the time and place. I’ll be there,” I assured him, already scrambling to untangle myself from my covers. I could tell he was still hesitant so I added, “really, Hotch. You’re gonna get me out of this dorm room and that’s exactly what I need right now. <i>You’re</i> doing <i>me</i> a favor here.”</p>
<p>He was quiet for a few more moments, but finally I heard his relenting sigh. “Alright, then. Our session’s at noon, so try to get here at about 11:30 so I can introduce you to Jack. I’ll send you my address. But if you change your mind –“</p>
<p>“See you then!” I grinned, hanging up before he could make another attempt to talk me out of babysitting. Despite what he was assuming, this was the <i>exact</i> sort of distraction from the rest of my life that I needed right now. </p>
<p>I really hadn’t wanted to waste my day in bed. I knew myself well enough to know that holing up in my dorm room all weekend would do nothing to boost my seriously poor mental health. It was too much to try and make myself a functioning member of society but, babysitting a three-year-old? Hanging out with a toddler all afternoon? That sounded like the best way to spend my day. </p>
<p>On top of that, it also meant Hotch and Haley could work on fixing their relationship. I knew how much that man loved his wife, and the fact that they’d get to spend today focusing on each other… it was what we <i>all</i> needed. </p>
<p>I’d planned on wandering down to the café across from the campus to get some food and waste time, but a message waiting on my phone caught my attention. It’d come in at just past seven; who had texted me that early? Curious, I pulled it up and instantly my heart fluttered into overdrive. </p>
<p>
  <i>From: Spencer<br/>Are you busy today?</i>
</p>
<p>Why did he want to know? Also, why did everyone on the team never seem to sleep? Sheesh. I was typing back before the butterflies had even stopped fluttering. </p>
<p>
  <i>Not until later. What’s up?</i>
</p>
<p>Casual, simple, open-ended. A calm reply that didn’t at all match the wild excitement thrumming in my chest. I tossed my phone back onto my bed, forcing myself to take a deep breath; hyperventilating over a single text before noon was a little much, even more me. Before I knew it, I’d started pacing my dorm room, eager for his reply. Even though I had my volume up, I checked my phone every couple of moments, just in case I somehow missed his text.</p>
<p>A couple moments later, my phone dinged and I all but dove onto my bed to read what he’d wrote.   </p>
<p>
  <i>I know it’s a bit of a drive up to Quantico, but if you have the time this morning, would you like to meet me for breakfast?</i>
</p>
<p>I read his message twice over before I finally comprehended what he’d asked me. He wanted me to come have breakfast with him. Did this… was this a date? No, it couldn’t be. Why would Spencer be asking <i>me</i> on a date? </p>
<p>Okay, was I <i>really</i> questioning why my crush was wanting to have breakfast with me? Like hell I was. </p>
<p>
  <i>Yeah, of course! When? I’m free until about 11:30.</i>
</p>
<p>This time, instead of just pacing, I frantically dove into my closet and started pawing through all of my clothes to find something suitable to wear. By the time I’d found a cozy sweater dress and some tights, my phone dinged again. </p>
<p>
  <i>If you’re hungry, we could meet up now. There’s a new coffee shop that opened down the street from my apartment that I’ve been meaning to try. They’ll be open by the time you get here.</i>
</p>
<p>I took just enough time to wrestle myself into the dress before I sent back a hasty, </p>
<p>
  <i>I’m ALWAYS hungry. I’ll see you in about half an hour!</i>
</p>
<p>Was the exclamation mark too much? Did I sound too eager? <i>Was</i> I being too eager? Probably a yes to all of the above, but I was too excited to care. I was gonna go have breakfast with <i>Spencer</i> and I’d get to meet Jack. It was the <i>definition</i> of a good day. </p>
<p>After getting myself dressed, I spent a few minutes attempting to make my hair halfway decent, and when I lost patience I snagged my purse and raced out of the dorm. I practically ran to my car, wishing for the hundredth time I lived closer to everyone else so it wouldn’t take me so long to get to Spencer. </p>
<p>I couldn’t think of the last time I’d smiled the whole drive to Quantico. Hell, I’d even popped in a CD and sang my way through a couple songs. The lingering sadness of my dream flitted away before I’d even hit the freeway, and it was nothing more than a faded afterthought by the first exit. </p>
<p>For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t bracing to get myself through ridiculously hard classes. I wasn’t trying to prepare myself for a heartbreaking, stomach-churning case. I didn’t have to worry about my family or about Skeevy JerkFace or any of the other seemingly-unending problems that had continued to crop up in my life. </p>
<p>Before I knew it, I was turning onto Spencer’s road. As I pulled into his apartment’s parking lot, my stomach flip-flopped and I took a shaky breath. <i>Calm down, Aria. It’s just breakfast with a friend. A really attractive, amazing, dream-guy friend that you’ve been crushing on for months…</i></p>
<p>I was doing absolutely nothing to calm the nerves right now. </p>
<p>Forcing the thoughts out of my head, I finally climbed out of my car and turned to head inside. To my surprise, Spencer was making his way across the parking lot. Admittedly, I’d worked a bit more at dressing up today to impress him, but he’d effortlessly outdone me in the looks department. </p>
<p>Today he wore a simple white button-up under a buttoned red cardigan, with a black tie tucked into the front. The black slacks he wore fit him unfairly well, and his trusty converse somehow pulled the entire look together. Of course, topped with the mismatched green and purple socks, <i>adorably attractive</i> was a fully fair assessment of the man strolling towards me. </p>
<p>Quickly, trying not to ogle the handsome doctor, I snapped my eyes up to his. When we met each other’s gaze, he smiled and held a hand up in greeting. Thankfully, it took him a few seconds to reach me, and it gave enough time to reorganize my fluttering thoughts. </p>
<p>“Good morning,” he smiled, pausing just in front of me, a hand coming up to tuck his hair behind his ear. <i>seriously</i>, he needed to stop doing that. I was already scatter-brained enough around him. “How was your drive?”</p>
<p>“Not too bad for a Saturday,” I told him, glancing back at the road I’d just come in on. “Well, at least until I hit town. Traffic in Quantico is always crazy, though.”</p>
<p>Spencer nodded, a small smile quirking over his lips. “It is. The coffee shop is just a couple blocks away. If you wanted to walk, it’s not too far.”</p>
<p>Virginia had blessed us with a mild winter day, and even though there were still some patches of snow scattered around, the morning was actually pretty decent. Plus, walking just meant more time with Spencer. <i>Count me in.</i></p>
<p>“Lead the way,” I told him with a smile, loving the way his own grew even more to bring out the dimples I didn’t get to see often enough. For the first couple minutes, the two of us walked in companionable silence, both our hands stuffed into our pockets. </p>
<p>In the months I’d lived here, I really hadn’t spent a lot of time exploring. The east coast was <i>worlds</i> different from Colorado and Washington, and even something as simple as the trees along the sidewalk got me distracted. </p>
<p>In fact, I was so caught up in looking at them that I hadn’t noticed I’d drifted closer to Spencer. At least, until I bumped into his arm. Instantly his hand came up to steady me, resting lightly on my arm as he gave me a curious smile. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” I chuckled, face burning with embarrassment as I peeked up at him. What kind of idiot got distracted by plants?! “I wasn’t paying attention.”</p>
<p>Spencer raised his brows in question. “What were you looking at?”</p>
<p>“The trees,” I admitted, and when the curiosity in his eyes grew a bit more I explained, “I never really took the time to notice, but the trees here are a lot different than back home. Where I’m from, we mostly have like pine trees and aspen trees. And they’re nowhere near the size of trees here.”</p>
<p>Honestly, I didn’t know why I’d been shy about getting caught up with trees. If anyone would understand an unusual interest, it was Spencer Reid. Instantly he stood up a bit straighter, his soft brown eyes lighting up eagerly as he nodded in understanding. </p>
<p>“The trees in the Southwest United States are, for lack of a better word, designed to be more drought-resistant for the harsher desert-esque landscape they grow in. Less moisture paired with the higher altitude of the western US keeps the trees shorter and more compact. The abundance of pine-type trees compared to the leafy ones on the east coast is mainly due to the tree’s need to retain as much moisture as possible.”</p>
<p>As we paused at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn, I tipped my head to look up at him. He’d tapered off, like he usually did when he rambled, and I gently nudged his arm with my elbow. When he looked down at me I prompted, “so, the trees here are bigger and fluffier because their habitat isn’t trying to actively kill them?”</p>
<p>That got a laugh out of him. His eyes crinkled at the corners as his wide, full smile totally took my breath away. Thankfully the light turned, and we fell quiet as we crossed the street, letting me re-gather my thoughts. Once on the sidewalk again, he nodded and said, </p>
<p>“Essentially, yes. We also have a much more diverse native tree population compared to the Southwest. The number of native species is about three-to-one, compared to Colorado at least, and even then, most of the native trees in your state are just variations of pine. Whereas in Virginia, we have a near equal mixture of pine, oak, and elm, and then a higher number of different tree assortments like hickory, birch, cedar, and many more fruit and nut-bearing trees.”</p>
<p>“Do you have a favorite tree?” I asked him, and for once my question seemed to stump him. He frowned and pressed his lips together, falling into much deeper thought than I’d expected. Finally, he looked down at me. “Honestly? I can’t say I do. I’ve never actually thought about it.”</p>
<p>I <i>hmm</i>’d in response, bobbing my head and then saying simply, “so, here’s the deal, then. When all the trees have leaves again, you’re gonna be my nature guide and show me the different trees you’ve got here, and we’ll figure out which one is your favorite.”</p>
<p>Spencer looked down at me in surprise, almost like he hadn’t heard me right. “You… want me to show you the trees? Really?”</p>
<p>“I do,” I confirmed, shrugging and giving him a small smile. “I sort of came to Virginia at the wrong time of the year to get to see the landscape properly, and I feel like I’m missing out on all this tree diversity.” When he didn’t answer me right away, I cleared my throat and started to backpeddle, “I mean, only if you want to, of course –“</p>
<p>“No, I-I’d love to,” he said quickly; when I peeked up at him again, I could see soft pink taking over his cheeks. “I just – um… are you sure you’d want me to?”</p>
<p>We paused at the next corner and now I turned to look up at him completely. He felt my stare and looked down, but almost instantly looked away. Six months, and he still doubted how much I liked spending time with him?</p>
<p>“Yes. Of course,” I said honestly, and when he met my eyes again I shrugged and admitted, “you’d probably get tired of me though. I’d make you identify every tree and tell me no less than three facts about each of them.”</p>
<p>Spencer giggled as we crossed the street, and by the time we reached the other side I was relieved to see the uncertainly had left his face again. One day I hoped he’d never have to second-guess how much I loved hanging out with him. </p>
<p>“Trust me, I’d actually <i>prefer</i> that than just simple sightseeing,” he assured, getting a grin out of me as well. Spencer pulled ahead of me at the next building we came to, and he stepped up to pull the door open for me. </p>
<p>Honestly, I was disappointed we were here already. Forget breakfast, I’d be perfectly happy wandering Quantico with Spencer and talking about native tree species the rest of the morning. The moment I stepped in, the delicious smells of the shop hit me and my stomach rumbled. Alright, alright. We’d take a break from fact-dumping for <i>now</i>. </p>
<p>The two of us wandered up to the counter and stared up at the menu board. After a few moments, though, I noticed Spencer leaning forward and squinting, trying to make out the small writing. </p>
<p>“I can read it to you, if you want,” I offered; he actually gave a start, like he hadn’t noticed me looking at him. Then, slowly, he reached into his cardigan pocket and produced a pair of glasses. </p>
<p>“No, it’s… I can read it,” he sighed, slipping them on like the glasses were the last things he wanted to put on himself. </p>
<p>I kind of wish he hadn’t to be completely honest. Just when I thought I couldn’t <i>possibly</i> be any more attracted to Spencer Reid, he went and did something completely unfair like <i>wear glasses</i>. It was, quite frankly, completely rude of him to have the audacity of looking this good so early in the morning. </p>
<p>We shuffled up, next in line now, and Spencer had clearly decided on what he wanted. He raised a hand to take them off and I moved without thinking. The moment I caught his wrist I completely froze; he looked down at me, understandably perplexed. </p>
<p>“You can – you should leave those on,” I said before I fully thought out the sentence that left my mouth. <i>Aria, for the love of god, PLAY IT COOL.</i> “Um – it’s a lot of strain on your eyes when you don’t wear glasses, and it’ll just make your eyesight worse. I mean, I know <i>you</i> know that – you know everything – I just, <i>um</i>. They look – you look just fine with them, and it’s much better for your eyes, so you can –“</p>
<p>“Next?” </p>
<p><i>Thank every single star in the sky</i>, I nearly shouted, instantly turning away from Spencer’s wide-eyed stare to rush up to the counter. I had absolutely no clue what I wanted – having spent more time studying Spencer than I had the menu – so I just ordered the first things I saw. </p>
<p>“Is that all?” the clerk asked, and as I went to nod, Spencer stepped up beside me. Before I could stop him he’d already made his order, and then he managed to produce his own wallet before I could grab mine. </p>
<p>As we stepped aside, I smiled softly up at him, fully and openly smitten with him for such a small act of kindness.  It was the first time <i>ever</i> I’d had someone else pay for my food. When he looked down at me I cleared my throat and said softly, </p>
<p>“Thank you. That was really sweet of you. You didn’t need to pay for me.”</p>
<p>“I know,” he assured, shrugging and slipping his hands into his pockets, returning the smile. “I wanted to.”</p>
<p>Well, I stood corrected. Between the glasses he was leaving on and now the simple, sweet act of kindness he’d done just because he <i>wanted to</i>… this man simply couldn’t be real. It was just impossible for someone to be this attractive – both physically and personality-wise. Just simply impossible. </p>
<p>For few moments all I could do was stare wordlessly up at him. Between the ridiculous ramblings I’d given and now being left speechless at just Spencer Reid in general, I had no idea what to even start with the conversation again.  </p>
<p>“Do <i>you</i> have a favorite tree?” Spencer asked me. The question from left field caught me off-guard, just as it had for him earlier. I took a few seconds to process the words he’d said and he waited patiently, as he always did. Just like that, he’d easily taken the pressure off our conversation, and made being with one another as simple as breathing.  </p>
<p>“I – actually, yeah,” I admitted, and he raised his brows to prompt me further. “The aspen trees in Colorado. I have no idea what they’re actually called, but they’ve got the white and black trunks.”</p>
<p>“The ones that turn gold in the fall?” he asked, and when I nodded he elaborated, “they’re the quaking aspen. It’s one of the species your state has that we don’t. Which is interesting, seeing as it’s the most widely distributed tree species in North America.”</p>
<p>“Really?” I asked him, genuinely surprised. He nodded and I tipped my head to the side. “Why aren’t they in Virginia?”</p>
<p>Spencer went to answer when the barista called out, “<i>order for Spencer</i>?”</p>
<p>We put the conversation on hold and gathered our food and coffee, then slipped to the back of the café and parked ourselves at a corner table. Once we’d settled ourselves, I looked up at him and asked again, </p>
<p>“So, Dr. Reid. Why aren’t there quaking aspen in Virginia?”</p>
<p>“They naturally thrive in higher altitudes with cooler weather, most commonly found around 5,000 to 12,000 feet in elevation, which is a fairly common elevation in Colorado. Comparatively, you’ll be hard-pressed to find elevations over 750 feet in Virginia anywhere outside the mountains. The highest point of elevation here is Mt. Rogers, which is a measly 5,729 feet. Your hometown of Arvada is just less than three hundred feet below that, and that’s within the city.”</p>
<p>I finished chewing and then asked him, “so, you’re telling me you’ve never gotten to see the aspen trees change color?” Spencer shook his head. “Okay, then. Bonus question. Where are the closest quaking aspen trees to us?”</p>
<p>“Nearby, they’re most abundant in Pennsylvania,” he said instantly; of <i>course</i> he knew that. “Why?”</p>
<p>“I’m pretty sure it’s a crime that you’ve never gotten to see the aspen trees in fall,” I told him matter-of-fact, putting my hands on the table and leaning forward. “So after <i>you</i> show me the trees in Virginia this summer, <i>I’ll</i> take us to see the aspens in Pennsylvania. Deal?”</p>
<p>Spencer was giving me his genuine, toothy grin again and he ducked his head, chuckling and nodding with me. “I mean, if it’s a <i>crime</i> that I haven’t seen them, I suppose we’ll have to correct that.”</p>
<p>“We will,” I confirmed, leaning back and taking a sip of my coffee. “You should never waste prime foliage season. I used to go a lot when I was younger. Jude always took Aubri and I up to the mountains in the fall. He was always looking for excuses to leave the house, so like every weekend we’d pile into his Subaru and head up to Rocky Mountain National Park.”</p>
<p>As I munched on my breakfast, my mind wandered back to the dream I’d had last night. Now I couldn’t quite recall what it’d been about, but the melancholy twinge in my chest assured me it’d been about my brother. After a few moments of silence as we ate, Spencer pushed his empty basket aside and leaned a little closer to me. </p>
<p>“I know the last few weeks have been really rough,” he started softly, and I quirked a small smile at him as I nodded. He smiled back and asked me gently, “are you doing alright?”</p>
<p>His question hit me harder than expected, because <i>no</i>. I really <i>wasn’t</i> alright, in any sense of the word. We’d been having such a lighthearted talk, though, and I really didn’t want to drag him down into the mess that my life had become. I felt like that was all I’d done lately. </p>
<p>So, instead, I opted to tease, “do I really look that bad?”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” he assured; the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. He held my gaze, knowing <i>exactly</i> what I was doing, until finally I dropped my eyes to my lap. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve been through a lot and I just want to make sure you were okay.”</p>
<p>For a few moments I studied my fingers as they picked at the hem of my dress. I was tempted to insist I was just fine and pull the conversation back to the trees, but when I looked at him again, I couldn’t. He was so sincere with his concern that I blurted out the honest answer before I’d fully thought it through. </p>
<p>“I’m tired. I just… I feel exhausted. I sleep a lot, I’m not nearly as busy as I was at the end of the semester, and somehow I’m just totally worn thin. I feel like… well,” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders, at a loss for how to explain myself. </p>
<p>Spencer, of course, had the perfect response. “<i>Like butter that has been scraped over too much bread</i>?”</p>
<p>The wry smile he pulled from me couldn’t be helped. Unsurprisingly, he was a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien too. As he put it, he’d been ‘pleasantly surprised’ to learn that <i>The Lord of the Rings</i> was one of my favorite book trilogies. I nodded quickly and teased, “exactly. Thanks, Bilbo Baggins.” </p>
<p>We both chuckled and, somehow, Spencer had shifted so much closer we were now nearly on the same side of the table. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, it was comforting to have him right beside me; I was more than tempted to lean over and slump against him. Part of me figured he might not mind if I did. </p>
<p>“You’ve been through a lot of stress in such a short time that your mind is overwhelmed,” he explained. “Between the Tracy Lambert case, Jason Battle, and now Connor, you’ve had more trauma in a couple of months than most people go through in a year. It’s taxing on you both mentally <i>and</i> physically. Have you really taken time just for yourself?”</p>
<p>I was quiet again, but this time it was to genuinely think over what he asked. Frowning, I glanced up at him and admitted, “I honestly can’t think of the last time I did. Well, until today, at least.”</p>
<p>Spencer smiled down at me and said, “I’m glad I could help you take a step back from your stress. You said you’re busy later today. Is it more school work, or are you doing something for yourself?”</p>
<p>“Not really either,” I told him, and explained, “I’m babysitting for Hotch and Haley. Which, I’m actually really looking forward to for the exact reasons you just explained. It’ll be really nice to just… step back, you know? Just hang out with a kid who doesn’t know about things like court hearings and murder and quantum physics.”</p>
<p>Spencer nodded again, his smile widening. “Not all of us find physics as relaxing as I do, I suppose.”</p>
<p>I snorted into my coffee and both of us dissolved into laughter. We let the heavier discussion slide away from us, and got caught up once again in the tree population of Virginia. We were both on our second cup of coffee – that I’d managed to pay for this time, much to his feigned chagrin – and I’d completely lost myself to our little slice of the world. </p>
<p>Thankfully, Spencer was much more aware of time than I was. </p>
<p>“It’s 10:55,” he announced suddenly, cutting off his own ramblings about the various types of oak trees in Quantico. “It’ll take us about fifteen minutes to walk back to my apartment, assuming we have to wait for both traffic lights again, and Hotch lives about twenty minutes from me. With your driving, though, it should take you less than fifteen, so if you want to be on time we should leave now.”</p>
<p>“I’m gonna hire you to be my personal time-keeper,” I chuckled as I followed him to the door. “Hotch wouldn’t know what to do if I actually showed up to work on time consistently.”</p>
<p>Spencer snorted, shaking his head as he held the door for me before falling into step at my side. “Your punctuality is better than Morgan’s.” He paused and then frowned. “Which, I suppose, really isn’t that great of a feat.”</p>
<p>“Hey, I’ll take those bragging rights,” I teased, and we both dissolved into more laughter. After a few moments of quiet giggling, I nudged his arm and he looked down at me. “Thank you. For talking about trees and buying me breakfast. This is like, the first good day I’ve had in who knows how long.”</p>
<p>We paused at the corner and Spencer smiled softly at me, somehow even more endearingly adorable as he nudged his glasses back up his nose. “Of course. I’m always happy to brighten your day.”</p>
<p>“You always do,” I told him honestly, and then realized what I’d said a moment later. We both flushed pink, and as we crossed the street, Spencer’s hand suddenly took hold of my own. He led me down the sidewalk to the right instead of going straight, taking us a new way back. </p>
<p>His fingers naturally laced with mine; thankfully, he was focused on wherever he was taking us. My face was easily bright red, and if he’d said anything to me, I wouldn’t have been able to form a sentence. His large, soft hand fully enveloped my smaller one, and the feel of him holding tight to me sent an unexplainable warmth tingling up my arm. </p>
<p>Even when we paused at his mystery destination, he didn’t let go. Instead, he pointed with his free hand to the tree towering over us. And, when I said <i>towering</i>, I meant it. Even without its leaves, the tree was absolutely massive. Huge, thick, branches arced high above our heads, nearly above the shops on either side of it. </p>
<p>“This is a black willow,” he told me, glancing back and smiling down at me. “If I had to pick, this would probably be a favorite tree of mine. I know it doesn’t look like much now, but when it flowers it’s quite remarkable.”</p>
<p>Again, I was reminded how much Spencer really paid attention to our conversation. Heck, <i>I’d</i> almost forgotten about asking him that question an hour ago. Of course, the brilliant doctor still holding my hand had retained all of what we talked about. </p>
<p>“Alright then, this is stop number one on our summer tree tour,” I teased him as we started walking again. Neither one of us moved to let go of the other, so we strolled the last few blocks hand-in-hand.</p>
<p>I certainly didn’t mind one bit. We laughed and talked about the other trees we passed until, regrettably, we were back at my car. Even now, though, he didn’t drop his hold and I didn’t pull away. For a few moments we lingered in silence, smiling at one another for another couple of seconds before he pointed out again, </p>
<p>“It’s nearly 11:15.”</p>
<p>Stifling a sigh, I nodded and we finally dropped hands. “I meant what I said earlier. Breakfast was… I really needed a morning like this.”</p>
<p>Spencer cleared his throat and nodded, looking down to his shoes and then peeking back up at me. “Maybe… um, maybe we could do it again sometime.”</p>
<p>My heart skipped about seventeen beats, and I totally forgot how to breathe. All I could do was nod dumbly in return and stammer out, “I’d – yes. Yeah, that’d be – yes. Good.”</p>
<p>“Great, um, good. Yeah, that’s – we can, we’ll figure somewhere else to try, maybe,” he offered, seemingly just as nervous as I was. When he tapered off, we both stared at the other for a moment, and then burst out laughing. </p>
<p>Again, any creeping awkwardness faded away and we were left just grinning at each other like idiots. Maybe this <i>was</i> a date, maybe it wasn’t, but either way, it was nice. Spending time with Spencer really was the highlight of any day, and if I got to be with him someplace other than crime scenes, I didn’t care <i>what</i> we called it. </p>
<p>As much as I wanted to stand in that parking lot beaming up at him like the lovesick puppy I undeniably was, I really <i>did</i> have to get going. So, pushing my own anxiety and self-doubt aside, I did what I’d been wanting to do all morning. </p>
<p>I got onto my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around my waist and hugging me securely to him. My face buried against his shoulder as his own pressed to my hair, both of us taking a slow, deep breath with the other. </p>
<p>And, as we pulled apart, I turned and pressed another chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being the bright spot of my, like, entire year so far.”</p>
<p>Now it was <i>his</i> turn to nod wordlessly, opening his mouth twice to say something before shutting it and clearing his throat. Finally, he managed out an, “o-of course. Anytime.”</p>
<p>As I unlocked my car, Spencer hurried forward and caught the handle before I could, opening my door. As I sank into my seat I smiled up at him and felt the need to say, “I don’t have a lab this week, so I’ll see you at work on Monday.”</p>
<p>He nodded eagerly and stepped back as I turned the car on. Before I shut the door, he said, “I’ll see you Monday, then. Drive safe, Aria.”</p>
<p>“I’ll see you later, Scruffy,” I teased. He chuckled at the nickname and ducked his head, glancing back at me as I shut the door and pulled out of the parking lot. He nudged his glasses back into place before holding up a hand.</p>
<p>As always, he watched me drive off, making sure I was okay until he couldn’t see me anymore. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Just moments after I knocked, the door swung open and I was met with a guarded look of surprise from Hotch. At the questioning brow-raise I gave him, he told me suspiciously, “you’re actually here on time.”</p>
<p>“Well of course I am,” I scoffed, blinking up at him as he stepped aside to let me in, giving Spencer a mental high-five. “<i>Punctuality</i> is my middle name, after all.”</p>
<p>Hotch actually rolled his eyes. </p>
<p>As he shut the door and turned to me, though, he softened a bit and told me, “I appreciate you stepping up to help with Jack today.”</p>
<p>“Don’t even mention it,” I assured, giving him a bright smile in return. “I’ve only been asking to meet him for like six months.”</p>
<p>The sound of heels on hardwood caught our attention and we both looked up as Haley came around the corner. She was <i>effortlessly beautiful</i>, just as Hotch had described her. To absolutely no one’s surprise she had a couple inches on me – regardless of the fact that my heels were higher than hers – and the smile she gave me was nothing short of dazzling. Just from the way Hotch was smiling at her, I had no idea how she could ever doubt this man loved her. </p>
<p>“Hi, I’m Haley. You must be Aria,” she greeted, crossing to us and holding out a hand. I shook it eagerly and smiled back at her. “Aaron’s told me so much about you. It’s great to finally meet you.”</p>
<p>“Likewise,” I assured as she turned and motioned for me to follow her further inside. “He talks about you so much I feel like I already know you.”</p>
<p>Haley laughed and glanced back at us; I didn’t miss the soft blush that came over her cheeks as Hotch ducked his head to hide a smile. <i>Score one for the boss-man.</i> I playfully nudged his arm as we followed her into the living room. </p>
<p>Hotch skirted past me and followed her to the couch, where an adorable little boy was staring up at the TV in front of him, absently snacking on a bowl of cheerios. Haley settled beside him as Hotch took a knee in front of him. Jack looked down at his dad curiously, and then his wide brown eyes blinked up to me. </p>
<p>“This is my friend, Miss Aria,” Hotch introduced, motioning for me to join him. Jack watched me silently as I crossed to him and sank down at Hotch’s side. “She works with me just like Miss JJ does. Can you say hi?”</p>
<p>Jack just blinked at me again before he looked back up to Haley. Hotch had told me he was pretty shy at first, and I was ready. Seriously, I doubted any kid could be more reclusive than Katie was, and if I could get <i>her</i> talking a mile a minute, I could get this quiet kid to open up. </p>
<p>“Hi, Jack,” I chirped, grinning at him when he spared me a sideways glance. I caught sight of the action figure tucked under his arm and asked excitedly, “woah, is that Spider-Man?!”</p>
<p>At this, he sat up just a bit and looked down to the toy in question. He gave a cautious nod and then shifted a bit to pull it out onto his lap. Then, slowly, he held him out to me. I took the action figure eagerly and studied it a moment. </p>
<p>“Wow, this is really cool! Is Spider-Man your favorite?” when Jack nodded again, I bobbed my head along with him as I handed him back his toy. “He’s pretty cool. I like him too. Do you like Batman?”</p>
<p>Jack sat up a little more and nodded once more. Then, suddenly, he was pushing his bowl of cheerios off onto Haley’s lap and squirming off the couch. He plopped onto the ground beside me and then scrambled to his feet, racing across to a toy chest in the corner of the living room. After a brief dive inside, the kid surfaced and turned to face me, holding out a Batman action figure towards me. </p>
<p>Following his cue, I shuffled over on my knees and sank down next to him, taking his offering. “You have Batman <i>too</i>?! Wow, Jack. What other superheroes do you have?”</p>
<p>And, just like that, I was totally <i>in</i> with a three-year-old. Jack’s eyes lit up in excitement as he said quickly, “lots an’ lots!” </p>
<p>Before I could respond, he was back head-first into the toy box. Haley laughed and shook her head, and I didn’t miss the loving smile Hotch fixed on her before he got to his feet. As he gave her time to grab her things, he crossed to us and knelt at his son’s side. </p>
<p>“Alright buddy. Mommy and I have to leave, so Miss Aria’s gonna stay and play with you for a little bit. Is that okay?”</p>
<p>“Bye, daddy,” he dismissed, not even looking back as he began hauling toys out and hefting them in my general direction. Hotch chuckled and then glanced to me. I shrugged and said simply, </p>
<p>“I’m gonna assume that’s a <i>yes</i>.”</p>
<p>“I usually do,” he agreed, getting to his feet. He pointed down a hall behind us and explained, “Haley’s left a note with some emergency numbers and there are leftovers you can heat up whenever you get hungry. If you need anything at all, you can call me.”</p>
<p>“Roger that boss-man,” I assured, grinning up at him as I caught a handful of toys tossed back to me. I nodded towards Haley, who was just slipping her coat on, and teased, “go spend some time with your wife. Jack and I will hold down the fort.”</p>
<p>He smiled again – seriously, the man was practically <i>giddy</i> around his family (and I was loving it) – as he said softly, “thank you. This means a lot to me.”</p>
<p>“Don’t mention it,” I assured, softening into a genuine smile. “We’ll see you guys later.”</p>
<p>Haley smiled over at me and gave a wave as Hotch finally moved to join her at the door. “Thanks again, Aria! We’ll be back soon. Bye, Jack! I love you!”</p>
<p>“Love you mommy!” came the kid’s muffled reply. By the time the two of them left and I looked back to Jack, he’d all but emptied the toy chest onto my lap. He finally wriggled back out and plopped onto the carpet in front of me, studying the mess he’d made and giving an approving nod as he looked up at me. “Can we play superheroes?”</p>
<p>An afternoon where the only thing being asked of me was to pretend to be Batman? Where I didn’t need to worry about restraining orders or vector algebra or the never-ending supply of terrible people that insisted on committing crimes every three seconds?</p>
<p>“Yeah,” I nodded instantly, grinning down at Jack. “You bet we can.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Jack came zooming around the corner of the kitchen, the blanket-cape tied around his neck flapping wildly in his wake. From my spot crouched behind the island counter I waved him over to me and he dove into my lap. The two of us fell back against the stove and Jack hissed, </p>
<p>“<i>They’re comin</i>!”</p>
<p>I gave him a solemn nod and the two of us slowly inched forward, leaning around the corner and looking down the hall. I scanned the empty expanse in front of us and whispered, “do you see ‘em, Captain Jackalope?” </p>
<p>Jack giggled at the superhero name I’d given him as he squinted and lifted up the cardboard binoculars we’d made, swiveling around in almost a complete circle. “Uh-uh. You look.”</p>
<p>I took the binoculars and doing the same scan he had. “Nope. I don’t see – <i>uh-oh</i>!” Jack gasped, eyes widening, the hint of a grin curling over his face. He knew what was coming next. “It’s the Green Goblin!”</p>
<p>“Oh no!” Jack gasped; instantly I turned, letting him jump onto my back. He wrapped his arms tight around my neck as he laughed, “<i>hurry</i>!”</p>
<p>I went to take a step and pretended to get stuck, swaying enough to get him giggling even more as he clung tighter. “I’m stuck! You gotta say the magic words!”</p>
<p>“<i>Warp speed</i>!” he cried, and I took off out of the kitchen. Jack squealed as we raced around the living room, pointing in the direction he wanted me to go. He kept looking back behind us saying, “he’s close! We gotta go fast!”  </p>
<p>Every couple of laps around the house I’d skid to a stop, gasping out <i>“he found us!”</i> before I spun around and went the opposite direction. By the time Jack finally gave us the all-clear, both of us were giggling wildly. I dropped us down onto the couch as I caught my breath, watching as Jack scrambled up to go grab the binoculars we’d abandoned in our narrow escape. </p>
<p>“That was close,” he huffed, crawling back up onto the couch next to me and slumping against my side. The kid was out of breath like he’d been carrying <i>me</i> on his back while he ran qualifying times for the 50-meter dash. </p>
<p>“It was,” I agreed, my heart rate mostly back to a normal rhythm again. Who needed a gym membership when you could just play superheroes all afternoon? The sound of the garage door opening caught both our attention and we sat up together, peeking over the back of the couch. </p>
<p>“What’s that?” he breathed, peeking over at me playfully. I grabbed the binoculars and passed them over. </p>
<p>“You tell me,” I said, continuing to peep over the couch as he scanned the hall. A moment later, the door to the garage opened and Haley came inside, followed a moment later by Hotch. Jack made a noise of excitement and hopped up, pointing eagerly at his parents. </p>
<p>“It’s mommy an’ daddy! Warp speed!”</p>
<p>I jumped to my feet and he leapt onto my back again. We zoomed around the couch and I raced up to the two of them; Haley and Hotch were watching us with bemused smiles. Jack waved at them as I explained, “you’re just in time. We’re trying to save Batman and Spider-Man from the Green Goblin. It’s getting pretty intense.”</p>
<p>“Yeah! We been fightin’ crime,” Jack told them, pointing back at where his action figures were being ‘held hostage’ by a couple of his stuffed animals. Haley chuckled and ruffled his hair as she stepped around us. Now I was thankful I’d convinced Jack to clean up before our latest rescue attempt. </p>
<p>Hotch nodded along with his son and teased, “you have been, huh?” when Jack nodded, Hotch held up a bag of <i>Hardee’s</i> and asked, “well, do you think the superheroes can take a lunch break?”</p>
<p>Jack and I turned to look at one another, both deliberating silently. At the smell of the food though, I offered, “we can fight crime a <i>lot</i> better if we eat, I bet.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he deduced. From behind us, Haley teased, </p>
<p>“That’s a good answer, Jack.”</p>
<p>Hotch and I laughed as I turned and led us to the kitchen after his wife. As I deposited Jack into his booster seat, he instantly turned and asked, “Miss Aria, can you play more?</p>
<p>It hit me that, with Haley and Hotch home, I really didn’t have a reason to stay. Instantly I looked up at the two of them to gauge their responses. Hotch knew I was looking for micro expressions; any sign that I was intruding, and I’d excuse myself. </p>
<p>It was Haley that spoke up and offered, “if you’d like to, Aria, we’d be happy to have you for dinner. That is, if you’re up for it.”</p>
<p>The tears that came to my eyes were so unexpected I actually almost let them fall. Thankfully I blinked them away before Haley looked back to me, but I knew Hotch had seen them. He stayed quiet, thankfully, as I nodded eagerly. </p>
<p>“As long as it’s okay, I’d love to. I mean,” I glanced at Jack and added, “we still haven’t stopped the Green Goblin.”</p>
<p>Jack instantly launched off excitedly into the regaling tale of our escapades. Which was really just a bunch of rambling that was hard to follow, even for someone who had been involved in all the action. </p>
<p>It just made that moment even better. It’d been… well, it had been <i>years</i> since I’d sat and had a meal at a real table. I really didn’t count the rushed scarfing at conference tables during cases as meals and this was… it was nice change of pace.  </p>
<p>It was relaxing, and simple, and comforting. It warmed me in a totally different way than breakfast with Spencer had. The rare meals with my parents – even with Aubri <i>and</i> Jude there – had felt like tense, stiff transactions. No one really spoke unless it was to argue and the only goal of eating was to get myself excused as fast as possible. </p>
<p>Here and now, eating fast food and doing my best to unravel the mystery of Jack’s stories, was easily one of the best meals I’d ever had. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Are you sure you’ll be alright to drive home?” Hotch asked as we headed down the walkway towards my car. It was, admittedly, much later than I’d planned on leaving. But, c’mon. If a kid asks you to stay after dinner and watch <i>Spider-Man</i> after a day of playing superheroes, you really can’t say no. </p>
<p>“I’ll be good,” I promised, holding up the travel mug of hot cocoa Haley had put together for me. “It’s not even a half-hour drive.”</p>
<p>As we paused on the sidewalk, Hotch narrowed his eyes at me. “According to MapQuest, Falls Church is almost forty-five minutes from here.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” I mused, shrugging innocently up at him. “Goes to show you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.” </p>
<p>Hotch stifled a snort as he shook his head. “No more than fifteen over the speed limit.”</p>
<p>“Deal,” I teased, unlocking my car and tossing my bag inside. When I looked back up at him, I asked slowly, “so… you and Haley seemed pretty okay tonight.”</p>
<p>He smiled softly and nodded, giving a small sigh. “We’re far from where I’d like us to be, but today I’ve felt closer to her than I have in a long time.”</p>
<p>“That’s good,” I told him honestly. “It’s nice seeing you all <i>smiley</i> and practically carefree. I expect a little more of that around the office.”</p>
<p>“Impossible,” Hotch said instantly, shaking his head. At the look I gave him he pointed out, “scowling is how I assert my dominance over the rest of the team. I can’t let my front slip.”</p>
<p>I laughed and rolled my eyes, giving him a bemused smile. “Alright then, Groucho McScowlypants. Go hang out with your family and let me break land speed records getting home.”</p>
<p>We stepped up and I pulled him into a tight hug as he chuckled. “Fifteen over,” he reminded me as we pulled back. I gave him a cheeky grin. </p>
<p>“No promises.”</p>
<p>Hotch stood on the sidewalk and just like Spencer – and, like I imagined a <i>real</i> dad would – he watched me drive off until I was out of sight. I didn’t turn on the music this time, didn’t sing to myself, or even hum.</p>
<p>Instead, I thought about Jude. About the long rides up into the mountains we took, about the nights we’d gone and parked on some back road to look up at the stars for hours. About the nights when our parents were gone and he, Aubri, and I had our <i>own</i> family dinners. </p>
<p>About how, after the bad days, the awful meals with mom and dad, the days like I’d been having lately where smiling didn’t even seem like something I was capable of, my brother had always been there. </p>
<p>Just like Spencer and Hotch, just like my team, Jude had always been the guiding sky in my darkest hours. And when I was having a really bad night, when I’d come to him crying at 3am because life really just <i>sucked</i>, he’d let me snuggle up with him as he recited, </p>
<p><i>A Voice said, Look me in the stars,<br/>And tell me truly, men of Earth, <br/>If all the soul-and-body scars<br/>Were not too much to pay for birth</i>. </p>
<p>“<i>Life is just super shitty sometimes,</i>” he’d whisper simply, wiping my tears away. “<i>But even through all the terrible times, think about all the good you experience along the way. All the fun, and the smiles, and the bright moments that you get to look forward to. Yeah, it’s not always like that, but isn’t all that happiness worth the pain?</i>”</p>
<p>On days like today, it was. Even with the rest of my dark reality looming on the edge of my mind, the happiness in my heart would be enough to pull me through whatever lay ahead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy hiatus-ending Monday!</p>
<p>I know I've responded to a lot of you, and I posted a longer explanation on my Tumblr (recollins.tumblr.com) but I wanted to apologize again for the lack of updates the last couple of months. 2020 has just been ruthless, and after fighting with COVID my grandma is now in hospice. It's been a really rough couple of weeks and I had to step back from social media and writing for a bit. </p>
<p>I have been absolutely blown away by all the genuine compassion and kindness I've received from you all. I've felt super alone the last few months with everything, so coming back to tons of messages of support and love from you guys was everything I needed and more. I can't thank you all enough for all the support you've given the story AND myself, and I just want you to know how thankful I am to have you guys! I know I'm just a stranger on the internet, but hopefully you all know the impact you've made on me and all the help you've given in just the last twenty-four hours to help pull me out of the awful pit I've been in. </p>
<p>Alright, alright. Enough of me being mushy. I want to know what you thought of the chapter! It's longer than the other fillers, but I couldn't pick between all you suggested so I wanted to combine a couple. Did you like her not-date with Spencer? Did you like her getting to meet Jack? I wanna know! Don't worry, the next filler will be dedicated to the much-anticipated girls night! What do you want to see the BAU ladies get up to? </p>
<p>Again, guys, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. Your comments have brightened my day so much and I'm really looking forward to hearing from you all again! Hopefully this chapter helped pick up your post-holiday Monday! </p>
<p>Have a beautiful week, you wonderful souls!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. An Easy Victim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x11 - Birthright</i>
</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/636864826769014784/chapter-31-is-up">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emily Prentiss was a force to be reckoned with. </p>
<p>I’d thought <i>Hotch</i> was intense with weapons training, but even he fell short of the woman who had just decimated the target in less than ten seconds. Even a few of the other agents at the shooting range had stopped to watch her kick ass. </p>
<p>As Emily turned to me, she paused at the look on my face. “What? What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“Just when I think you can’t be any more of a badass, you go and bring a paper target to its knees,” I laughed, shaking my head as she gave a small shake of her head. “What? I’m being serious! That was amazing!”</p>
<p>As she passed me back the rifle, she gave a small shrug of her shoulders and dismissed, “it’s just practice. At the rate you’re going, you’ll pass <i>me</i> up on marksmanship. We’ve got time for one more round, if you’re up for it.”</p>
<p>When I’d first met Emily, I’d taken her to be as cocky and self-assured as Morgan. To my surprise, the more I got to know her, the more I’d come to realize she was the most humble of the team. Getting her to accept a compliment or acknowledge her serious talent and skills was as hard as getting Hotch to take a day off. </p>
<p>Which, ironically, is what I’d convinced him to do this morning. Well, I’d at least talked him into leaving my firearms training to Emily today so he could have a morning with his family. Now, I was determined to master this stupid rifle so when we met up next week, I could actually impress him with my improvement. Last week I’d failed miserably; so far it wasn’t looking any better today. </p>
<p>“Let’s do it,” I agreed, stepping up to the firing booth and rolling my shoulders, ready to get it right this time. “Okay, so I take my stance…”</p>
<p>As I lifted the rifle up, Emily’s hands came to my shoulders and she gently turned me to the side. “Remember, we want the same stance you used with the shotgun, not the pistol. This gun has a pretty decent recoil and if you don’t angle yourself right, you’ll lose your footing.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay… forty-five-degree angle, right?” I asked, shifting my right foot back a little more. “And I bend the knees…”</p>
<p>I crouched just a hint and Emily’s hand fell to my back, nudging me forward a bit. “Lean towards the target, putting your weight on the balls of your feet instead of your heels.”</p>
<p>As I followed her instructions, she stepped back and let me lift the rifle to my shoulder. I took a couple steadying breaths, running Hotch’s words on repeat as I shut an eye to take aim. </p>
<p>
  <i>Focus on the front sight, not on the target. Control your trigger press and follow through.</i>
</p>
<p>The first shot was completely off the target, and the recoil hit my shoulder hard enough to shift me back a hint. Instantly Emily steadied me; I bit back a growl of frustration. I had the stance, I had the practice, I had two of the best weapons trainers in the FBI, so why didn’t I have this down already!?</p>
<p>By the time I used up the rest of the magazine, I’d only hit the paper half a dozen times. The amount of shots actually within the lines of the target was significantly less than that. Emily called the target back as I irritably sat the rifle aside, pulling off the safety glasses and headphones and tossing them onto the bench.</p>
<p>We had a case briefing in fifteen minutes and even though Hotch would probably approve of me running late for target practice, I couldn’t take more of the stupid rifle today. We gathered our things in silence – Emily knowing better than to poke me when I was grumpy – and made our way out of the shooting range. </p>
<p>When I noticed she was still holding onto my target paper, I frowned and tried to take it from her. She held it up out of the way and I huffed, tugging at her sleeve. </p>
<p>“Don’t keep that,” I whined; she smacked my hand down and pushed the target into the safety of her bag. “<i>Em</i> come on. I did terrible.”</p>
<p>“You showed a lot of improvement. I know Hotch will want to see it,” she told me as we made our way across the courtyard to the main building. That only got me scowling more. “Hey, you’re doing really well. This is only your second week with the carbine, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” I sighed, badging in reluctantly and shuffling after her into the lobby. As we waited for the elevator I mumbled out, “But I only have two weeks left of firearms training and at this rate I won’t pass the rifle qualification.”</p>
<p>“You know, profilers aren’t even required to carry guns,” she pointed out. “Let alone a semi-automatic rifle.” </p>
<p>I knew she was trying to tease me, but I was still so bummed all I did was slump back against the elevator wall. “I know, I just… I want to pass all the certifications. I don’t want –“ <i>I don’t want to let Hotch down</i>. “I don’t want to fail.”</p>
<p>Emily looked back when I cut off, and her teasing smile softened into one of understanding. She moved back to stand beside me, copying my stance. “You know that there’s no way you could disappoint <i>any</i> of us, right?” </p>
<p>“Of course,” I lied. Which was totally pointless because Emily saw straight through me instantly. She bumped my arm with her own and chuckled, </p>
<p>“Realistically, kiddo, short of committing a crime, there’s no way you’d ever let any of us down. And honestly, depending on the crime, I’m pretty sure even Hotch would make exceptions.” She got a reluctant smile of out me and nudged me again to usher me off the elevator when we arrived on our floor. “I mean it when I say you’re doing really well.”</p>
<p>We made it three steps towards the bullpen doors when a voice directly behind me exclaimed, “so you killed it in training today, sunshine?!”</p>
<p>The squeak of pure terror that left me wasn’t a noise <i>anyone</i> in the FBI should’ve made. Emily barely caught me as I spun on my heel, clutching at my chest, glaring furiously up at Morgan. “Don’t <i>do</i> that! Jeeze!”</p>
<p>He was laughing too hard to notice my anger and just threw an arm around my shoulders, towing me into the bullpen. Emily, though fighting her own smile, pushed Morgan’s arm off me and pulled me to <i>her</i> side as she offered, “want me to beat him up for you?”</p>
<p>Before I could say <i>yes, let me hold him down for you</i>, Rossi sauntered up to our little group. He took a moment to look us over, then gave a heavy sigh as he asked, “what’s got you threatening violence before 8am on a Wednesday?” Emily and I pointed simultaneously to Morgan; Rossi shrugged in acceptance. “Well, don’t let <i>me</i> get in your way.”</p>
<p>“I – <i>hey</i>!” Morgan huffed, abandoning his usual harassment of me to go after Rossi. “Why does everyone always gang up on me?! Pretty boy, help me out here!”</p>
<p>Spencer didn’t even look up from his desk as Morgan and Rossi rushed by, calling out idly, “you changed my ringtone again. I condone any repercussions you’re facing for whatever else you’ve done.”</p>
<p>“Did he really?” I sighed, dropping my things onto my chair before I came around to his desk. For a few seconds, everything else slowed around us. The shouting from Morgan and Rossi disappeared, taking Emily’s teasing laugh along with it. The rest of the bullpen faded out and it was just Spencer and I, smiling at one another, lost in our own world for just a couple heartbeats. </p>
<p>Easing up onto the corner of his desk, I held out my hand and instantly Spencer passed off his cellphone. I was fairly positive the literal genius and his 187 IQ could figure out the ringtone – I’d even showed him twice, just for this reason – but I liked that he still asked me for help. </p>
<p>Between helping me study, teaching me Russian, and all the help and support he’d given with Connor, I always felt guilty realizing there was hardly anything I could do for him in return. I mean, all <i>I</i> could do was occasionally fix his phone and throw together a cup of coffee. Compared to all Spencer did for me, changing back his ringtone wasn’t that big of a deal. When I gave him his phone back though, he smiled up at me like I’d just personally solved world hunger. </p>
<p>“<i>Grazie. Ti apprezzo,</i>” he said with one of his genuine, toothy smiles that got the butterflies in my chest scattering every direction. In my usual composed, eloquent manner, all I did for several moments was smile down at him as I fought a blush.</p>
<p>Finally, I at least managed to gather a couple braincells to remember the Russian he’d gone over with me last week. “<i>Pozhaluysta.</i>” </p>
<p>“Your pronunciation is getting better,” he praised, somehow widening that dazzling smile as he got to his feet. Again, fully and completely flustered by the praise I couldn’t get enough of, all I gave in return was a smitten smile. He smiled back at me, confused at the look I was giving him but bashful nonetheless. He quickly tucked his hair back behind his ears (and I shamelessly followed the movement) as he glanced back at the conference room. “It looks like Hotch is getting ready to start. Are you ready?”</p>
<p>I hopped back off his desk as I shook my head, jamming a thumb over my shoulder towards the break area. “I’m gonna go grab the coffee and I’ll be right in. You want your usual cup of sugar, or do you wanna mix it up and keep your teeth from rotting?”</p>
<p>He chuckled and shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he started backing towards the conference room. As he did every time, Spencer reminded, “you don’t need to make my coffee, Aria.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” I teased, tapping my chin as I rolled my eyes up. “I’m not familiar with that drink but I’ll see what they have.”</p>
<p>The giggle I got out of him sent the butterflies fluttering wildly once again. </p>
<p>By the time I joined the rest of the team in the conference room, everyone but JJ was already gathered around the table. I was admittedly a little disappointed to see both seats next to Spencer were taken, but hopefully that’d help me focus on the briefing. </p>
<p>I went around the table and sat everyone’s drinks down, each one of them voicing something similar to what Spencer had told me. When I got to Hotch, he took his coffee and tipped his head back to catch my attention. </p>
<p>“Though you’re an intern, we don’t expect you to bring us coffee,” he began, trying to drive home the point I’d ignored from the others. In answer, I gave his shoulder a squeeze before I circled to the open seat between Rossi and Morgan. </p>
<p>“Well, if you’re not expecting it, it’ll always be a surprise. That sounds like a good way to start the morning.”</p>
<p>The others gave me playfully exasperated frowns as I flashed them a cheeky grin. Before they could keep going, the last of our team came rushing in. </p>
<p>“Good, everyone’s here,” JJ sighed in relief, all but tossing the files at us as she circled around the table. I nudged Rossi back out of my to slide JJ’s coffee cup in her direction. She gave me a fleeting smile before turning back to the board and pulling out the controller. </p>
<p>Spencer and I shared a curious look with one another across the table as she glanced back at the group. Something told me this was gonna be an interesting one. </p>
<p>“Okay… Last night, about twenty miles south of us in Fredericksburg, a twenty-year-old woman named Molly McCarthy was abducted. She’s the third to go missing in the last six weeks. All disappeared from public places, and no one’s seen them since.”</p>
<p>“Until now,” Rossi guessed, and sure enough, the next slide that popped up was of a severed leg. Emily and Penelope met my grimace with ones of their own as JJ explained, </p>
<p>“A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park, which was once the site of the Battle of Chancellorsville.”</p>
<p>“Were they able to make an ID?” Hotch asked; she hit the button for the next slide. A smiling young girl popped up to cover the pictures of her mutilated body. The contrast in images got my stomach churning and I dropped my eyes back to the papers in front of me.</p>
<p>“It was the first victim, twenty-one-year-old Jenna Frasier. She was taken six weeks ago from the parking lot of her college. Decomp indicated that she had been dead just over a week.”</p>
<p>As the others started to discuss the timeline of the abductions and deaths, I couldn’t look away from the girl smiling down at me on the screen. Twenty-year-old college kid taken in a parking lot. Though I tried not to, my mind instantly went back to the night I’d found Connor waiting for me at <i>my</i> school. </p>
<p>What if I hadn’t noticed him? Would he have followed me, jumped me from behind? Would he have taken me away like he’d tried to do in the parking garage? Would I have been a victim just like Jenna Frasier?</p>
<p><i>I’m not a victim,</i> I told myself instantly, actually taken aback realizing I’d called myself that. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t a victim. Was I?... I mean, <i>technically</i>, by definition, I was. But is that how the team saw me? A weak, helpless little girl that was just Connor’s <i>victim</i>?</p>
<p>A hand rested over mine, and only now did I realize I’d been anxiously tapping the table. Rossi gave a light squeeze, staring down at me in concern as he asked softly, “you okay, kid?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sorry,” I murmured, giving him a small smile. He gave my hand a pat and pulled away as I forced myself to focus on the case. As JJ flipped through the next few pictures, the dates under the pictures of the abducted girls caught my attention.</p>
<p>“Hold on. If I’m reading these dates right, this UnSub’s holding all the victims for over a month <i>and</i> it looks some of the abduction dates overlap, don’t they?”</p>
<p>“They do,” Emily confirmed. “Seems this UnSub keeps at least two women at a time, for at least a month, if not longer.”</p>
<p>Propping my chin on my hand – mostly to keep myself from tapping the table again – I glanced around at the others and asked, “so, keeping them for this long would take a lot of effort and resources. Which means, it’s possible the victims may have significance to him, right?” </p>
<p>Morgan nodded beside me and added, “could also be part of his preparations. Maybe finding the right victims is hard, so he holds onto the ones he finds until he’s got a good replacement.”</p>
<p>“If he spends that much time with the victims, there’s a chance they could still be alive, isn’t there?” Penelope asked hopefully, and Hotch gave a quick nod of confirmation. </p>
<p>“Which is why we need to work fast to piece this together,” Emily agreed, and then motioned to the unattached body parts. “How’d she end up like that?”</p>
<p>“M.E. found microscopic tool marks on the bone,” JJ reported, which surprisingly got Spencer sitting up in his seat, realization sparking on his face. </p>
<p>“I remember reading about a case like this a couple of years ago. It happened a while back, in Spotsylvania county,” he told the rest of us; am unavoidable smile crept onto my face. I couldn’t even remember what I’d had for lunch yesterday, and he could recall something as randomly trivial as this. “Multiple victims were taken at once, and body parts recovered had similar markings on the bone. But that case was from twenty-seven years ago.”</p>
<p>“It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg,” JJ confirmed. The rest of us all shared a communal look of <i>uh-oh</i>. If anyone other than Spencer knew details of a case from nearly three decades ago, there was a pretty good chance the similarities weren’t just a coincidence. “Five women, sixteen to twenty-four. Buried in pieces, with same markings like Spence pointed out. Same civil war battlefield, too.”</p>
<p>“Hold on, now,” Rossi asked, sitting up as well now. “Killed the same time of year, <i>and</i> left at the same dump site?”</p>
<p>At JJ’s confirmation, Morgan let out a low whistle and shook his head. “It’s like an anniversary. This time and that location definitely have meaning to this guy.”</p>
<p>“The UnSub from twenty-seven years ago was never caught. That case is still open,” JJ revealed. “And right now, the biggest difference here is just in victimology. Back then, the women were drug addicts and runaways, all high-risk victims. Now, they’ve all been relatively low-risk college students.”</p>
<p>“Wait…” I said slowly, looking up from my notes to glance around the table again. “Do we really think this could be the same killer?” The others nodded and I sat back, frowning at the file. “I mean, thirty years is one hell of a cooling-off period.”</p>
<p>“BTK resurfaced after a twenty-five-year hiatus,” Spencer pointed out. I quirked a small smile and gave him an agreeing shrug. </p>
<p>“A fair point, but when he popped back up <i>he</i> didn’t kill anyone. He just taunted the police. To just dive back into your same M.O. after all that time? That’s not very likely, is it?”</p>
<p>“It’s not, necessarily. But the marks on the bone and where he dumps the bodies… that’s a very specific signature,” Rossi explained to me, following Hotch’s lead and getting to his feet, shrugging as he added, “plus, it’s pretty hard to copycat details that were never made public.”</p>
<p>I opened my mouth to argue but paused realizing he had a pretty good point. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”</p>
<p>“How gracious of you,” Rossie snickered, ignoring the side-eye I threw to him as I got to my feet as well. We gathered by the door, all awaiting orders, ready to dive into this case and figure out what was really going on. </p>
<p>“JJ, with this being local, I’d like you and Garcia to set up here and check the M.O against girls missing in other states,” Hotch delegated; both women nodded. “It could help us explain the long absences if we <i>are</i> looking at the same UnSub, and other victims will help us narrow down a profile faster.”</p>
<p>“We’re on it,” Penelope assured, and the two of them waved goodbye as they took off across the bullpen. Hotch led the rest of us down the walkway, heading for his office. He ducked inside momentarily as he called out,</p>
<p>“The rest of us will meet in the parking garage in fifteen minutes. Dave, Prentiss, Morgan, I’d like you to head straight to the station. See if you can coordinate with the officer that worked the disappearances in 1980. Reid, Aria, and I will meet the sheriff at the battlefield to go over the most recent crime scene.”</p>
<p>When he reappeared, he had two sets of keys. Without thinking, he tossed one set to me, and the other to Morgan. The moment they left his hands, I could tell he regretted his choice of drivers. Morgan and I caught the keys and then instantly turned to smirk dangerously at each other. </p>
<p>“Fredericksburg is twenty miles away, hm?” Morgan started, wiggling his impressively-fluffy brows at me. </p>
<p>Before I could answer Spencer interjected, “twenty-three point five, actually. Twenty-two point nine if you take US-1 instead of the I-95 the whole way.”</p>
<p>“This isn’t a race,” Hotch warned, looking between the two of us. Morgan was already halfway across the bullpen, rallying Emily and Rossi after him towards the elevator. Before he could get too far, I called after him, </p>
<p>“Oh, of course not, Hotch. It never is with Morgan. He couldn’t beat me if he tried.”</p>
<p>“I – <i>hey</i>! I could too!” Morgan argued back as he smacked the <i>down</i> button relentlessly, as if it’d make it open quicker. I paused at my desk, slinging my go bag and purse over my shoulder and giving him the most patronizing smile I could muster as he, Rossi, and Emily piled into the elevator.  </p>
<p>“<i>Suuuuure</i>, of <i>course</i> you could, Morgie!” </p>
<p>The look on his face got Spencer and I laughing, his shout of <i>“I told you not to call me that!”</i> echoing around us as the elevator doors slid shut. Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose as he reluctantly followed us out of the bullpen.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Thanks to Spencer’s traffic tips, I’d taken the marginally-longer route and shaved a couple minutes off his estimated arrival time. Which mean I’d managed to pull up to the stoplight where the two different routes intersected just a couple moments before Morgan had. My victory smirk was still in place as I wove us through the Virginia countryside, making good time on our way to the crime scene.</p>
<p>Hotch, at my side, had only <i>just</i> let go of the white-knuckled grip he had on the door handle the entirety of the highway. He spared me a brief glance before looking ahead again – like he didn’t trust me not to crash without him constantly watching the road – as he prompted, </p>
<p>“What else sticks out?”</p>
<p>“Well… it’s elaborate,” I reasoned. “I mean, all the things he puts these women through… he’d need a <i>lot</i> of time and privacy to do all this to them.”</p>
<p>He nodded along with me as he added, “seclusion, time, and patience. Back then, the theory was he was a seasonal worker on one of the farms.”</p>
<p>Thankfully, Hotch’s game of <i>Twenty Questions: UnSub Edition</i> had helped pull me out of my funk from this morning. Between him and Spencer, I hadn’t had a moment to think of anything other than this UnSub the entire drive, and that was exactly what I needed. </p>
<p>“It’s funny, he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk,” Spencer murmured as he shuffled through the papers strewn all over himself and the backseat. Hotch looked to me again and asked, </p>
<p>“Why might that be?”</p>
<p>For a moment I was quiet, the only sound in the car was the drumming of my fingers on the steering wheel and the <i>shff</i>ing from Spencer and his papers. “Well… to me, it feels like he’s flaunting. It’s an important landmark, it’s out in the open, and he keeps getting away with dumping the bodies. It probably makes him feel important.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re right. He’s going out of his way to show off, which means the reward he’s getting is worth the risk,” he agreed, before nodding towards the group of people gathered in a field just ahead of us. “The dump site’s just over there.”</p>
<p>I eased us off onto the shoulder of the road and grinned up at him as we all climbed out of the SUV. “See? Safe, efficient, <i>and</i> we earned bragging rights against Morgan.”</p>
<p>“It was certainly fast,” Spencer agreed as we fell into step after Hotch, heading across the field for the crime scene.  </p>
<p>“Not so sure about <i>safe</i>, though,” Hotch murmured, throwing me a brief, humored glance over his shoulder. I met it with an unamused frown before he turned back ahead and greeted, “Sheriff Ballantyne, I’m Aaron Hotchner. This is Aria DiMaggio, and Dr. Spencer Reid.”</p>
<p>“Hi, hi. Nice to meet you all. Thanks for comin’ down so quickly. Crime scene’s just this way,” Sheriff Ballantyne said, not even slowing down as he turned on his heel to march back the way he came. The three of us hurried after him as he rushed out, “I figured if this was the same killer like everyone’s sayin’, I didn’t want to waste any time before I got your help.”</p>
<p>“We’re here to assist you however we can,” Hotch assured him. “The rest of our team is meeting with John Caulfield, the Sheriff from the original case, to see what we can dig up.”</p>
<p>The Sheriff hesitated for a heartbeat before clearing his throat and nodding slowly. “Er, yeah. I’m not sure if that’ll do us any good, truth be told.”</p>
<p>“Do you know him?” I asked, scurrying a little faster to come up beside him. Darn these giant men and their long legs… the Sheriff glanced down at me and said slowly, </p>
<p>“Uh, no. Not personally, I mean, I’ve just heard stories.”</p>
<p>“How do you mean?” Hotch asked, just as confused by the Sheriff’s dismissive attitude as I was. The Sheriff looked between us, like he hadn’t been expecting us to question his answer, and took a moment before he replied. </p>
<p>“Well, y’know, by all accounts, he was a decent sheriff, a good man. Still is. Truthfully, though, we don’t get a lot of murders down here, and this case broke him.”</p>
<p>As I fell back just a bit – needing to give my little legs a break – Spencer stepped up in my place and asked, “how so? What happened to him?”</p>
<p>“Ah, just the same old… y’know, he started drinking, marriage busted up, just kept obsessin’ over the case ‘til finally they uh, just kinda asked him to retire.”</p>
<p>“Really?” I asked in surprise as the others finally started to slow down as well, finally at the beginning of the crime scene. “You mean the department pretty much kicked him out of his job?”</p>
<p>The Sheriff just shrugged again. “More or less, yeah. I mean, he really wasn’t doin’ much of anything there at the end. Just goin’ over the files, drivin’ himself crazy… trust me, we were doin’ him a favor.”</p>
<p>“Right,” I quipped, admittedly a little sharper than I meant to. Hotch cast me a fleeting <i>‘don’t start’</i> glance as he held up the crime scene tape, letting Spencer and I duck beneath it. I gave him an apologetic nod as Spencer segued for me, </p>
<p>“What do you know about the murder so far?”</p>
<p>“Well, there were about twenty kids partying a hundred yards that way,” he explained, thankfully indifferent to my previous tone. Sooner or later, my attitude was gonna get me in trouble. He turned and then led us over to a patch of dirt another dozen yards away. “Molly McCarthy was taken here.”</p>
<p>As I followed the others to the abduction area, I looked back at where the Sheriff had first pointed. “Hold on. She was this close to a huge group and no one heard or saw <i>anything</i>? No one was able to help her?”</p>
<p>“It was dark and the guy definitely had the advantage,” the Sheriff sighed, shaking his head as he looked around the field. “Molly’s boyfriend was the last person to see her. Said she was alone for a minute, maybe less, and then she was gone. No one noticed anythin’, it happened so quick.”</p>
<p>“If it’s the same UnSub from the 80’s, he’s had twenty-seven years to perfect his M.O.,” Spencer voiced, coming up beside me as he stuffed his hands in his pockets as he swept the scene around us. Though there were plenty of trees lining the bordering fence, and a handful sprinkled through the field, it was pretty open with minimal places to hide… even with his reasoning, something just didn’t sit right with me. It hadn’t since this morning, honestly, and I couldn’t shake the doubt in my mind.</p>
<p>Hotch, knowing the look on my face, nodded at me to voice my thoughts. </p>
<p>“So, <i>if</i> it’s the same UnSub… it was assumed he was in his late twenties back then, right?” All three men around me nodded. “Alright. So, this guy’s presumably pushing sixty, and he managed to grab a young woman and book it out of this field in less a minute?”</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t see why not,” the Sheriff reasoned. I looked back at him, questioning frown on my face, and he elaborated, “I mean, Molly was an easy victim. Drunk, alone in the dark… some bigger guy decides he wants her, it isn’t that hard for him to come take her.”</p>
<p>His words hit my raw nerves and for a few terrifying few moments I was back in Quantico. Back in the dark parking garage in Connor’s unrelenting hold, completely at his mercy as he tried to take me away. Again I lost myself to my thoughts from earlier. Is that all I’d been to him? An easy victim he could just take when he wanted? For a heartbeat I felt his hands tightening on my arms, felt myself being pulled back against my will, helpless in his hold, <i>an easy victim…</i>  </p>
<p>“She would’ve fought back,” I insisted softly, my eyes falling to the scuff marks in the dirt, the last place Molly had been. “Even if he was bigger, even if he had the upper hand… the moment she realized she was being abducted, she would’ve done whatever she could to get free.”</p>
<p>The Sheriff didn’t catch the tremor in my voice or the weight behind my words, but Hotch and Spencer had. I could feel both of their concerned stares on my back but I didn’t turn around. It was stupid, <i>so stupid</i>, to be falling into this mindset in the middle of a case, but… how different was I from the women this UnSub had taken?</p>
<p>If my friends hadn’t been there, would I have been able to get away from Connor? Had Molly managed to break away like I did, only to get caught when she couldn’t move fast enough? Had Jenna fought tooth-and-nail to get away from her attacker, only to end up in pieces? What would’ve happened to me if things had gone just a <i>little</i> different that night? Would my team be profiling <i>my</i> abduction? Would they think I’d been an easy victim too?</p>
<p>“Well, we don’t know if she did or not. No one heard any strugglin’ or screamin’. I mean, she might’ve known she was outmatched, and she could’ve let him take her thinkin’ it was the best option,” the Sheriff dismissed, hauling me back to the case. Irritation instantly replaced my own panic and anxiety and I turned, ready to snap <i>“do you really think she just sat back and let herself be kidnapped”</i>, but the look on Hotch’s face had me swallowing my sharp remark. </p>
<p>“Uh, Sheriff,” Spencer spoke up, catching the exchange between the two of us. “I’ve seen a lot of properties on unmarked dirt roads with no visible street signs, nothing on any maps. Is that pretty common for the area?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. If you don’t live around here, it can be hell finding your way around,” he confirmed. Spencer nodded and, after a quick glance and nod with Hotch, he asked, </p>
<p>“Could you show me the various entrances to this place?”</p>
<p>The Sheriff nodded and instantly started for the far side of the field. Before he left my side, Spencer reached out and took my hand for just a second, giving a soft squeeze. As quick as he’d done it he let go, skirting around me to follow the Sheriff. </p>
<p>For a moment I considered reaching after him to pull him back so I could bury my face in his sweater vest. A hug from Spencer was usually the fix for most of my emotional turmoil. My fingers actually twitched his direction, genuinely ready to do just that, but I was too late. In the next moment he was out of my reach, already ducking past the crime scene tape. </p>
<p>Once we were alone, Hotch stepped up to me and let his dark gaze sweep over my face, studying my expression for a moment before he said quietly, “ever since we had Jack, now that I know first-hand the love a parent can have for their child, I’ve always dreaded when JJ brings us cases involving kids. There will always be cases now that <i>you’ll</i> dread, because you’ll understand personally all that’s involved, all that’s at stake, and all that’s lost at the hands of an UnSub.”</p>
<p>Tears pricked my eyes and I blinked quickly, turning away to take a breath and settle my frazzled nerves. I studied the leaves on the tree beside us for a moment – <i>Spencer will probably know exactly what this one is</i> – before I finally looked back up at him. There was no judgement in his eyes, no frustration that I was essentially breaking down on a case. There was only concern, and a genuine desire to know what I was thinking. </p>
<p>“I don’t care if she was drunk or not. She wouldn’t have just let him take her, Hotch,” I whispered, voice breaking as tears pooled in my eyes. “I refuse to believe she just <i>let</i> herself be a victim”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t think she did. And…” His gaze had softened into the same gentle expression he’d given me in his office the night I’d told him about Connor. The same expression that reminded me Hotch was a dad, and dads always seemed to know exactly what their kids needed to hear. “I don’t think you did either, Aria.”</p>
<p>My lip trembled, and I hurriedly reached up to wipe the unexpected tear that had slipped down my cheek. I’d needed to hear that out loud, and of course, Hotch had known that. “Thank you,” I managed, my voice catching again as another tear fell. His hand settled on my upper arm, giving me a comforting squeeze as I took a few deep breaths and hurriedly wiped the other tears off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just, well, kind of fall apart there.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay if you lose it every once in a while,” he promised me. “Cases will get to you now and then, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It reminds us that we’re human.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but <i>you</i> never lose it,” I pointed out as we started after Spencer and the Sheriff. To my surprise Hotch actually cracked a smile. </p>
<p>“Well, according to <i>some</i> people’s opinions on my sleep schedule, <i>I’m</i> not human.”</p>
<p>That got a laugh out of me, and I actually snorted as I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re right. Humans don’t willingly wake up at 5am to go for a run before work.”</p>
<p>As he lifted the crime scene tape for me again, he nudged me under and told me in complete seriousness, “I only insist on early morning cardio to make sure you can outrun Morgan and keep his ego in check.” </p>
<p>“You know exactly how to motivate me, I’ll give you that,” I laughed. As he fell into step beside me, I leaned against his arm for just a moment. I saw him sneak another small smile as he leaned back against me too. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>By the next day, we had another dead body and no substantial leads. </p>
<p>Hotch, Rossi, and Spencer had left with the Sheriff to go examine the latest scene while Emily, Morgan, and I stayed back to gather anything at all to try and get us <i>something</i> to go off of. As Emily came up to the board, she nodded to the list in my hand. </p>
<p>“Got anything?”</p>
<p>“JJ sent me a bunch of violations in this county that precede the 1980 murders. DUI, petty thefts, rape, assault… a few of these are repeat offenders. Problem is, nothing matches the M.O. of this guy.”</p>
<p>Emily let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair as she swept the board for what had to be the hundredth time. “I definitely think we’re on the right track, looking further back before the first murder in the ‘80’s… maybe we just need to go back further?”</p>
<p>“We could always try other counties too? Maybe even spread out to some bordering states,” I added; Emily and I shared a heavy look. Sure, we <i>could</i>, but in the time it took us to dig through all that info, how many more bodies would turn up?</p>
<p>“Ay, ladies, Garcia’s got somethin’,” Morgan called to us, rushing up to the board and holding out his phone as we gathered around him. </p>
<p>“Don’t worry, it’s not contagious,” Penny teased, getting amused smiles from the three of us as she pressed on, “so, the fantabulous JJ and I have dug across the <i>whole</i> state looking for this guy’s sleazy work. We even spread out to West Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, North Carolina, <i>and</i> Kentucky, and we found a sum total of zilch. </p>
<p>Well, there went <i>my</i> idea. Emily and I shared a frown as Penny continued on. “So, we went closer to home and I looked at the reports that were withdrawn or marked as solved, just in case, and I found a complaint filed by a Karen Foley in the next county over. The story’s… awful. I sent a copy to your hand-helds. PG version, is that she was kidnapped in 1979, but then she escaped.”</p>
<p>The three of us shared a hopeful glance as Emily voiced, “Sheriff Caulfield never mentioned anything like that when we went over the previous cases.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t his jurisdiction, and it turns out Ms. Foley withdrew her report just a few months after filing it. I’m sure it never even reached him.”</p>
<p>“You know what?” Morgan said slowly, looking back at the board and studying the crime scenes for a moment. “It hasn’t sat right with me. All the murders, even from the 80’s, they were all efficient and sophisticated. What if Karen Foley was his first?”</p>
<p>Emily and I both gasped in realization as I said quickly, “like a test run to make sure he had everything in order. He figured out who and where to hunt and learned what worked and what didn’t with Karen.”</p>
<p>“We’ve said he’s careful, patient, and well-organized. Careful planning has always been a part of his process, so he’d <i>have</i> to have at least one victim to practice on,” Emily added, on my same brainwave. “Garcia, where is she now?”</p>
<p>“Baby girl, work your magic and find us an address,” Morgan told her, and a moment later all three of our phones beeped. </p>
<p>“Done and done, my sweet chocolate bear. PG over and out.”</p>
<p>Emily had the keys before Penny had even hung up. “Morgan, stay here and coordinate with Hotch and the others. Aria and I will go see if we can get any help from Ms. Foley.”</p>
<p>“On it. Stay safe, you two,” he told us as we all but ran out of the station. I held out my hand for the keys and Emily snorted, pointing to the passenger side door. </p>
<p>“Nope. I already had years shaved off my life with Morgan’s driving. I’m not going for cardiac arrest today.”</p>
<p>I rolled my eyes, reluctantly getting into the SUV. “Honestly. You and Hotch are so dramatic.”</p>
<p>Emily still got us across the city in good time, and we were pulling up to the address Penelope sent in just twenty minutes. As we hopped out and headed up the driveway, we caught sight of a woman getting groceries from her car.</p>
<p>“Ms. Foley?” Emily called out, taking the lead as we approached. The woman looked back in alarm hearing her name called, and actually took a half step back from us as we paused beside her car and showed her our credentials. “Hello. I’m Emily Prentiss, and this Aria DiMaggio. We’re from the FBI. Do you have a minute?”</p>
<p>She looked between us, totally baffled as she asked us, “FBI? What do you want with <i>me</i>?”</p>
<p>“We’re investigating the murders of two women and the abduction of a third in Fredericksburg,” Emily started, and at the stricken look on Ms. Foley’s face I prompted gently, </p>
<p>“Have you heard of them?”</p>
<p>“Yes, it’s awful, but I don’t know what that has to do with me,” she answered, instantly closing off to us. Her arms folded over her chest and she shrunk down into herself a bit more. Defensive body language, avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight as she fought backing up further… she was lying. </p>
<p>“Ms. Foley, we think it might be related to what happened to you in 1979,” I explained. She didn’t say anything so Emily prompted gently, </p>
<p>“Your abduction?”</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, you must be mistaken,” Ms. Foley said quickly, turning sharply on her heel and quickly opening the trunk of her car, gathering her groceries at lightning speed. Em and I shared another glance; <i>that</i> was about as subtle as me opening ogling Spencer practically every day. </p>
<p>“Why would you say that?” Emily asked her. “You sound pretty certain –“</p>
<p>“I am. I made it up,” Ms. Foley dismissed without looking back. She shut the trunk, but before she could make her getaway I said quickly, </p>
<p>“We read your report. You said you were held against your will. You were drugged, burned, beaten, and sexually assaulted… from the statement you gave police, it certainly sounded genuine. I don’t think you’d make up all you went through.”</p>
<p>As she turned, she met my eyes for a brief moment before dropping them back to the ground. “I was seventeen, Ms. DiMaggio. I had to have some kind of excuse for where I’d been. You’re young, I’m sure you understand. I’m sure you’ve done the same thing.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but my excuses were never something like this,” I argued gently. She still didn’t meet my eyes. “Where had you been?”</p>
<p>She shrugged quickly. “Around. I was using back then. I’m sure a sweet girl in the FBI never had to lie to her parents about runnin’ off to get high, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”</p>
<p>Before I could reply she’d turned and practically jogged up the rest of her driveway, headed for her front door. Emily and I scrambled after her. She already had her door unlocked and open by the time we got to the porch, so Emily rushed forward and said quickly, </p>
<p>“You called home, ma’am.” Ms. Foley turned in surprise to stare up at her, caught off guard by her statement. “Some offenders force their victims to contact families to explain their whereabouts. I know you needed to tell your father whatever the offender wanted, and that’s what he asked you to say –“</p>
<p>“There was no offender,” she cut in sharply, turning from us again to start inside. </p>
<p>“A lot of the details in your report are consistent with what happened to those women in 1980,” Emily continued, and this time, Ms. Foley turned to level a cold, defensive stare at both of us. </p>
<p>“You callin’ me a liar, Ms. Prentiss?”</p>
<p>“We’re not, Ms. Foley. Not at all,” I said softly, stepping forward and meeting her harsh gaze. “You’re right. I’ve never had to lie to my parents like you said, but I <i>did</i> file a report, just like yours, and I know how hard that is to do.”</p>
<p>She was quiet for a few moments, studying my face, looking for any sign I was lying. I held her stare without moving, keeping the genuine care and understanding on my face, hoping she’d take my word. After a couple moments she just cleared her throat and dropped her eyes once again.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m sorry to hear you went through that, but –“</p>
<p>“I know it took a lot of courage to get to the police station and tell someone what happened to you, and I know you wouldn’t do that just as an excuse,” I pressed on; she swallowed hard, turning away from me just a bit more. “I understand if you’re trying to protect yourself from that memory, I really do. I know how hard it is to have to relive what you went through, but right now you’re the only person alive who can help us. No other women have to go through what you did. Please just think about it, and when you’re ready to talk –“</p>
<p>Ms. Foley looked up once more, and I saw the defenses go up between us. She was closing off, protecting herself, and as frustrating as it was, I couldn’t blame her. She glanced to Emily briefly, and then put her back to us as she dismissed, “I’m not a lead, Ms. DiMaggio. I’m sorry. I hope you find whoever’s doing this.”</p>
<p>The door shut hard in my face and my heart sunk. I’d really thought we’d made a connection, that I’d managed to reach her and convince her to help the other girls… Emily stepped up beside me, tucking one of her business cards into the door jamb before resting a hand on my arm. </p>
<p>She nudged me off the porch and we trekked back to the SUV. The first few miles were silent. My elbow was propped on the door, chin in my hand as I stared out the window, running over the conversation. </p>
<p>“The moment she heard we were FBI, she’d made up her mind not to open up to us,” Emily finally spoke, a hand settling softly on my knee. There’s nothing you could’ve said that would’ve changed that.”</p>
<p>With a dejected sigh, I slumped back in the seat and nodded along with her. “I know. I mean, I get why she denied it. Who knows how many people didn’t believe her back then, you know?” Emily nodded; my heart twisted painfully in my chest. How much had she gone through, how many people like my Uncle or my dad had called her a liar? How much had she suffered through before she finally retracted her report? “I just… I wish she could help us. There are other girls going through what we – what <i>she</i> did and we’re still not any closer to helping them.”</p>
<p>Emily had caught my slip up; I knew she had. As we pulled up to a stoplight, she gave my knee a squeeze and I looked up at her slowly, almost embarrassed at what I’d accidently said. At the look on her face, though, my breath caught in my throat. </p>
<p>There was nothing but pure, genuine empathy in her gentle gaze. Just like the day we’d found out Connor’s sentencing, I could see she truly, completely understood the turmoil in my heart. I wasn’t the only one that knew the pain of what Ms. Foley had gone through. </p>
<p>“Like you said… it takes a lot of courage to speak up about what happened to you, Aria,” she said softly, the hand on my knee tightening just a bit. “I know it was hard opening up like that, and for what it’s worth, I think it <i>did</i> mean something to her, realizing you could relate.”</p>
<p>The light turned green, and though she had to look away, her hand didn’t pull away. I wanted to ask her. I wanted her to confide in me about why she could empathize with me with Connor, about why she had her own defenses she refused to let fall, because I wanted to help her carry the burden. </p>
<p>If she had been hurt, if she was still suffering from the scars someone had left on her soul, I wanted to help them heal. I wanted to reassure her, to comfort her and promise her that she was safe and loved, like she did with me the moment I started to slip back into my own self-loathing, my own crushing guilt. </p>
<p>She wasn’t willing to open up just yet and like with Ms. Foley, as much as I hated feeling helpless, I understood. As much as I wanted to help, I knew for now all I could do was wait until she was ready. </p>
<p>For now, I’d do what I could. I took hold of the hand she had on my knee and laced our fingers together. She held tight to me, giving a squeeze that I returned instantly. I knew I had Emily to guide me through my dark moments, and she knew I was here do to the same when she was ready. </p>
<p>For today, that would be enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday, everyone!</p>
<p>I hope y'all had a good week! I wanted to thank you guys for all the love and support you've shown me in the last seven days. I'm totally blown away by how caring and compassionate you all are, and I can't say enough how much I appreciate your understanding with all that's been going on. That said, I'm so glad to be back in the swing of things! I hope you guys are too!</p>
<p>I can't wait to hear what you guys thought of the chapter! Aria and Emily are one of my favorite friendships to write and I hope you like seeing them together more! What about Hotch's words of advice, or her talk with Emily? Let me know your thoughts!</p>
<p>As always, you sweet little gumdrops, I hope you have a wonderful week! Your support of the story truly keeps me going and I love knowing how much you like Aria and SLAS! Thank you guys so much! ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Broken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even after Emily’s pep talk, I was still upset we hadn’t gotten anywhere with Ms. Foley. Morgan heard us approaching and turned to greet us with a hopeful smile. As soon as he caught sight of our expressions, though, the smile dropped off his face.</p>
<p>“You’re kiddin’. It was a dead end?”</p>
<p>With a huff, I flopped into one of the chairs and slumped onto the table. Emily stepped up behind me and rested her hands on my shoulders in silent comfort as I mumbled, “well, sort of. Ms. Foley recanted her story.”</p>
<p>“She’s saying the abduction didn’t happen?” Rossi asked in surprise. He had apparently returned – with Sheriff Caulfield in tow – and the two of them gathered closer as Emily and I nodded heavily. “Sounds like you think she’s not telling us the truth.”</p>
<p>I shook my head and agreed, “not at all. I think her report was genuine, based off of her immediate reaction when we mentioned her abduction. Something definitely happened to her.”</p>
<p>“Definitely,” Emily agreed instantly. “She avoided eye contact, shielded herself, <i>and</i> got defensive with us, even after Aria started to connect with her.”</p>
<p>“She doesn’t want to admit it happened,” I sighed, giving a shrug. “I mean, it’s understandable. She’s protecting herself. She doesn’t wanna open the door she’s kept shut for almost thirty years –“</p>
<p>“Well right now, the only person she’s protecting is the offender,” Morgan cut in with an air of contempt, shaking his head. Emily felt me tense and she gave my shoulders a squeeze. Possibly in comfort, possibly in warning to keep my temper in check; either way, I ignored it.</p>
<p>“She’s not <i>protecting him</i>, Morgan. Based off her report and what the other victims suffered, we know what Ms. Foley went through had to be horrific and traumatizing, to say the least. She’s clearly compartmentalized what happened and it’s not really fair of us to go demanding she drag all of that back out into the open again –“</p>
<p>“Not fair?” Morgan scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at me in disbelief as he totally dismissed the point I was trying to make. “Kid, you and Prentiss just told her this guy could still be out there, snatchin’ up other women and doin’ the same thing to them as he did to her, and she refuses to help? At this point she’s just bein’ naïve –”</p>
<p>“<i>Naïve</i>?! Do you really not see all this woman has been through?” I threw back at him incredulously, shoving to my feet. Emily’s hands, firm on my shoulders, were the only things keeping me from storming around the table. “It had to take an insane amount of strength for her to put her life back together and move on from what she went through –“</p>
<p>“Aria,” Rossi tried, shooting a look to Morgan as well. My raw nerves had already been struck, though, and I wasn’t gonna drop the point I was trying to make.  </p>
<p>“Now, <i>three decades later</i>, some FBI agents just show up and ask her to go back and relive what was quite possibly the worst day of her life –“</p>
<p>“<i>Aria</i> –“</p>
<p>“And you have the <i>audacity</i> to accuse her of being selfish and unbothered –“</p>
<p>“<i>Aria, basta cosi (that’s enough)</i>!” Rossi’s sudden snap of Italian put the brakes on my rant and I cut off, turning to glare at him. He softened his tone a hint to add, “<i>Lascia che me ne occupi io, ragazzin (let me take care of it, kid).</i>”</p>
<p>Emily tugged me back and I sat reluctantly, still scowling up at Morgan as he did the same down at me. Rossi held his hand out between us, silently asking for a truce as he pointed out,</p>
<p>“Alright, let’s take a step back. Morgan, Aria’s right. It’s not fair to blame Ms. Foley for not wanting to open up to us about her experience. We can’t – <i>and we won’t</i> – hold that against her.” I instantly opened my mouth to say <i>I told you so</i>. Rossi shot me a look to keep quiet as he continued, “<i>however</i>, Morgan has a point too. You could read her well enough to know she was lying when she recanted her report. So, we just said the man that abducted and tortured her might be running around again. Did she seem worried to you?”</p>
<p>“No,” I admitted, then instantly defended, “but that doesn’t mean –“</p>
<p>Rossi held up his hand at me this time and I begrudgingly fell quiet. “Did she ask for a protective detail? Did she even seem frightened?”</p>
<p>After another moment of silence, I said slowly, “well, no.”</p>
<p>“Ms. Foley moved away just a few days after filing that report, in the beginning of December. She moved back to the <i>same</i> area less than a year later. Now tell me, if you were Ms. Foley and you’d moved out of state to escape all the terrible things that had just happened to you –“ <i>just like I did moving to Seattle to get away from Connor…</i> “– why, when the FBI told you the same things were happening all over again, would you not be fearing for your life? Why would you have even moved back in the first place?”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t have. I mean, unless…” the realization dawned on me and my eyes widened just a bit. “Unless I knew I had nothing to be afraid of.”</p>
<p>“<i>Unless you knew you had nothing to be afraid of</i>,” Rossie repeated, enunciating each word for emphasis.</p>
<p>“She’d only move back here because she thought it was safe,” Emily added, hands slipping off my shoulders as she came up beside me, grabbing the list of offenders Penny had sent us earlier. “So, she’d have to know that the guy who <i>actually</i> did this to her was gone.”</p>
<p>“You know who this man is,” Rossi insisted, turning to look at Sheriff Caulfield. “He grew up here too. He was in his mid-twenties back then.”</p>
<p>Morgan shifted back to tap the evidence board that we’d filled with pictures of our best possible leads. “He was reckless in his personal life, probably a drinker. He would’ve had arrests for DUI’s.”</p>
<p>Sheriff Caulfield looked between all four of us, taken off-guard by the spur-of-the-moment profile. “I – I don’t recall –“</p>
<p>“He would’ve left right after you found his last victim. December 13th, 1980,” Rossi kept going, glancing at us to help with the rapid-fire information.</p>
<p>“He might’ve gone to prison, could have joined the military, moved away, sold his property…” Emily hinted hopefully. Sheriff Caulfield just shook his head, seemingly at a loss.</p>
<p>“He could’ve died,” I piped up. Morgan and Emily glanced at me in surprise, but I didn’t back down from my own gut instinct. I still didn’t think it was the same offender, and if Ms. Foley felt safe enough to move back here, I was starting to think I actually <i>was</i> right.</p>
<p>“This is it. This is your case, right here, right now,” Morgan continued, tapping the board again. “This guy was meticulous. He might’ve had two areas of control, both private. One to torture them, one to confine them. A workshop, a barn, a garage…”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I just – I can’t remember –“ Sheriff Caulfield tried, and then cut off as Rossi grabbed his shoulders. He actually gave the guy a small shake as he insisted,</p>
<p>“Yes, you can! December 1980. The man was here and then he was gone. <i>You know him, John</i> –”</p>
<p>“Robert Wilkinson!” the Sheriff gasped out, eyes widening as the name snapped back to him. Emily quickly rifled through the papers and then glanced up with a nod.</p>
<p>“He’s on here with 3 DUI’s. Spent a few days in jail?”</p>
<p>“He did. Had a hard time stayin’ sober ‘till…” Sheriff Caulfield met my eyes unexpectedly and revealed, “’till he died. He was twenty-eight when it happened. He fell into his combine harvester.”</p>
<p>My heart leapt in my chest – mostly because I was pretty sure I was right, partially because of the guy’s grisly death – and I asked quickly, “when did he die?”</p>
<p>“December 1980,” Emily read off, looking around at us as we all. “Right when the killings stopped.”</p>
<p>Morgan came around the table to join us as he looked down at another paper. “And it looks like Karen Foley moved back not long after that.”</p>
<p>All five of us around the table looked up, sharing a moment of <i>we found our guy</i>. Well, more accurately, we found <i>one</i> of our guys. Just like I’d been suspecting all along, <i>our</i> UnSub wasn’t the same man from 1980. But…</p>
<p>“Like you said, Rossi… the most recent murders, they’re almost identical to what happened twenty-seven years ago. Right down to the details that were never made public,” I pointed out. “If Robert Wilkinson’s the UnSub from <i>then</i>, who’s doing this <i>now</i>?”</p>
<p>Rossi pressed his lips together, thinking over what I’d said before he turned to look at Sheriff Caulfield again. “Was Wilkinson survived by anyone?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” the Sheriff said slowly. “He had a wife. Mary Wilkinson.”</p>
<p>“Does she still live around here?” Rossi asked. When Sheriff Caulfield nodded, he snagged the keys off the table, pointed to Morgan, and jerked his head towards the door. “Let’s roll. Sheriff, fill us in about her on the way.”</p>
<p>As he and Sheriff Caulfield headed through the station, Morgan came around the table and paused at my side. When I gave him a reluctant glance, he reached down and gave my chin a gentle squeeze. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come off the way it did.”</p>
<p>“I know,” I murmured, offering a small smile. Morgan gave one back, giving another squeeze before he made off after Rossi and the Sheriff. Alone now, Emily rested her hand on my back and asked, </p>
<p>“Are you okay?”</p>
<p>I could see the concern on her face, and I didn’t blame her. After my… well, <i>outburst</i>, and our talk in the car, I knew she was worried about me. So, I gave her my most reassuring smile, nodded, and told her softly, “yeah, Em. I’m good. I promise.”</p>
<p>Though I could tell she wasn’t fully convinced, she knew I wasn’t in the mood to be pushed right now. She just slid her hand up to squeeze my shoulder before she moved for the board. When she paused and looked back, though, I glanced up in question. “If that changes… if you’re not good, you let me know. Okay, kiddo?”</p>
<p>“I will,” I told her, giving a small smile. She held my gaze for just another moment before she nodded and went back to the board. The moment she turned away, the smile fell off my face. My heart twisted and guilt trickled through me. Why did it feel like I’d just lied to her?</p>
<p>I’d been genuine. I was alright. I mean, still a little peeved at Morgan, but that was honestly one of my primary emotional states most days. And… I didn’t feel <i>bad</i>. I just… Morgan’s words had hit me in a weak spot I hadn’t anticipated. The whole case so far, really, had just come at me from left field. </p>
<p>I knew why, too, and it just made me more defensive. I took a breath in and let it out slowly, running a hand through my hair, trying to get myself settled again. Making things personal during a case was a stupid thing to do. A girl was dead, another was missing, we had a possible lead with Mary Wilkinson, and I had to <i>focus</i>.</p>
<p>My own troubled thoughts could just stay buried where I put them for now. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>It was nearing 1am by the time we left the station. After hours more of digging through Mary and Robert Wilkinson’s life, it was clear we’d hit a dead end and weren’t getting anywhere. After both Morgan <i>and</i> myself had passed out at the table, Hotch had finally called it and sent us to the motel to try and get some sleep. He said it was for our benefit, but I’d seen him starting to doze off a few times too, whether he wanted to admit it or not. </p>
<p>Once at the questionable hole-in-the-wall we’d picked for the night, we split up how we usually did: Rossi and Hotch, Morgan and Spencer, then Emily and I. As I went to follow my roommate inside, Rossi caught my arm and motioned out towards the parking lot. “How about you and I take a walk?”</p>
<p>“If this is an elaborate mafia hoax to kill me, you should probably check with my boss first,” I told him, nodding towards Hotch who was pointedly pretending he couldn’t hear us. “I don’t think he’ll be okay with me not showing up tomorrow morning.”</p>
<p>Rossi gave me a deadpan stare and sighed, “I’ve told you before, I’m not in the mafia. Just start walkin’, alright?”</p>
<p>“<i>Says the guy who’s supposedly not a mob boss,</i>” I hummed under my breath. His eyes narrowed and I bit back another grin as I passed Emily my go-bag. She tossed me the room key in return, and then I scampered across the parking lot after Rossi. </p>
<p>He led us out to the SUV’s and leaned against the back of it, perching on the bumper and patting the space beside him. I took his silent request and followed his lead, looking out across the street just as he was. We were silent for a couple moments; if we didn’t start talking, I was gonna fall asleep again. </p>
<p>“Since I’ll assume – for now – that murder wasn’t your motive for getting me alone, I take it there’s something you wanna talk about.”</p>
<p>Rossi chuckled, shaking his head as spared a glance to me before l0oking back across the road. “You’re right, on both assumptions. I just wanted to check on you, kid. See how you’re <i>really</i> doing.”</p>
<p>“Me? I’m fine,” I said, tilting my head to the side as I stared up at him. “I mean, I’m tired, but I’m not –“</p>
<p>“I meant from earlier, with Morgan,” he explained, and my words died out momentarily. I’d been so busy through the night I hadn’t even given our little argument a second thought. When my silence drew on, Rossi hinted, “I know you told Morgan it was okay, but I’ve got this funny feeling you weren’t being completely truthful.”</p>
<p>For a couple moments I held my silence, eyes falling to my lap as I started to pick at the hem of my skirt. Slowly, I took a breath and then offered, “I mean, I know he didn’t mean to upset me. I was being sensitive and took it personally when he didn’t mean it that way.”</p>
<p>Rossi <i>hmm</i>’d and bobbed his head, thinking over what I said for a few moments. After a couple seconds he turned to me and guessed, “Morgan’s judgement about Karen Foley hurt because you relate to her and what she’s gone through. His comments about <i>her</i> felt directed at <i>you</i>.”</p>
<p>“I… I mean, know he wasn’t saying it with that in mind,” I defended softly, shrugging my shoulders as I tugged at my skirt nervously. Rossi let us go another handful of moments in silence before he prompted, </p>
<p>“But…?”</p>
<p>Being surrounded by profilers seriously never let me hide my own feelings. I’d been trying to keep it to myself, but I knew Rossi was just as stubborn as I was. He wouldn’t let me play down what was bothering me. </p>
<p>“I just don’t get how we can hear the word <i>victim</i> and see the same thing in such different light. You know?” I asked him softly, slumping back against the car as I looked up at the faint flicker of stars above us. “The Sheriff assumes Molly was an easy victim. Morgan thinks Ms. Foley is naïve. If that’s what people think after all they went through… what does that make <i>me</i>?”</p>
<p>Rossi shifted on the bumper to face me completely, and I looked over to him now instead. His face had softened, and the usual humorous gleam in his dark eyes was gone, replaced with gentle understanding.</p>
<p>“To you, Molly wasn’t <i>easy</i>, she was helpless. Ms. Foley wasn’t <i>naïve</i>, she was innocent. The same words, maybe, but different connotations that change the way we see the victims. The way <i>you</i> see yourself.” Rossi reached out and rested his hand over my own and said softly, “in your mind, <i>you</i> were innocent, <i>you</i> were helpless, <i>you</i> were vulnerable. Deep down, you’re wondering if other have seen you in that different light. If they think you deserved what happened to you because you were just a stupid little girl who wasn’t strong enough to stop herself from becoming just another victim. You wonder if that’s how <i>we</i> see you, because after today, that’s how you’re starting to see yourself.”</p>
<p>Tears pooled in my eyes and, with an admittedly pathetic sniffle, I nodded and did my best to keep my lower lip from quivering. Rossi smiled gently and gave my hand a squeeze. </p>
<p>“You’re a victim. That’s a fact, but that doesn’t make you weak, <i>dolcezza</i>. That doesn’t change who you are, or how your family sees you. You’re still the feisty, ornery little firecracker you’ve always been.”</p>
<p>The laugh that bubbled out of me pushed the tears back as I scoffed, “I’m not <i>ornery</i>.”</p>
<p>“Eh, fine. Cantankerous, surly, difficult… I’m not picky,” he teased as we both pushed to our feet. We were both exhausted and, even though we both had much more to say about this, we were tapping out. We needed the few precious hours of sleep we were managing to get. As we reached the sidewalk outside the rooms, Rossi moved closer and rested his hands on my shoulder, giving me a genuine smile. “Just remember, whatever you call yourself, however you see yourself, you’ll still be <i>Aria</i> to us, and that’s what matters, okay kid?”</p>
<p>When I smiled in return, no tears this time, he reached up and cupped my cheeks briefly before stepping back. We murmured our goodnights and split off to our own rooms. The heaviness in my heart, the self-doubt and self-criticism still lingered, but I had a feeling that’d be there for some time. </p>
<p>The wounds Connor left me wouldn’t just disappear after a few weeks, but… Rossi was right. </p>
<p>I was a victim, but I was still <i>me</i>.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>A cup of tea was placed at my elbow and I glanced up from the mountain of papers I’d been buried in the last half hour. Hotch settled into the seat across from me, sipping from his own cup as he instantly fell back into the file he’d been reading. </p>
<p>He’d denied it a couple of times, but I was pretty certain he’d come right back to the station after dropping us off at the motel. Judging by the number of discarded coffee filters in the trash, he’d been here since at <i>least</i> 4am, and that was <i>if</i> I pretended he’d allowed himself a couple hours of sleep. Which, going off the dark circles under his eyes, was overly generous of me.</p>
<p>Before I could analyze my possibly-not-human boss further, I heard the station door swing open and Sheriff Ballantyne call out to us, </p>
<p>“There’s been another abduction.”</p>
<p>Rossi, Morgan, Sheriff Caulfield, and I all groaned as he led the rest of the team to gather around us. Spencer and Emily gathered beside me as the Sheriff reported,</p>
<p>“Name’s Tara Ricker, family called this morning. She never came home last night. We’re still trying to locate the vehicle.”</p>
<p>“Great,” Emily sighed, scrubbing a hand down her face. The rest of the team might have gotten some sleep, but the case was weighing so heavily that we all felt as worn through as Hotch looked. “We know he kills after he takes another victim, so now Molly’s running out of time.”</p>
<p>“All right, what do we know?” our weary leader prompted us, sitting up and looking around to each one of us. Even now, with as worn through as he had to be, the only thing showing in his dark gaze was unwavering belief. He <i>knew</i> the answer was here, and he <i>knew</i> the team would find it. </p>
<p>“I think we oughta start with the obvious question,” Sheriff Ballantyne spoke up, arms crossing over his chest as his brows furrowed. “Are we <i>sure</i> Wilkinson was our killer from the 80’s? There’s <i>no</i> possibility that we’ve got it wrong and this is still the same guy from back then?”</p>
<p>“It’d be wasting time we don’t have trying to dig up new leads,” I explained, getting a doubtful glance from the Sheriff. “With how Mary Wilkinson acted being questioned about her late husband, and how well his death coincides with the end of the murders… at this point, the chance of it being the same guy are just so low it’s a waste of time pursuing that theory.”</p>
<p>The Sheriff shrugged and my temper already started spiking. I was <i>not</i> in the mood for his combativeness today. “But, you’re sayin’ it’s still a possibility.”</p>
<p>“Possible, maybe, but not <i>probable</i>,” I told him. When he started to argue <i>that</i>, I pointed up at Spencer and added, “I’m sure our resident genius could whip us up some statistics, if you really think I’m wrong.”</p>
<p>The doctor at my shoulder took a breath, ready to back me up, but at the look Hotch threw our way we both kept quiet. </p>
<p>“No need,” he said, effectively stamping out my combative fire. The tone of his voice told me I was already inching out onto thin ice. Once satisfied I wasn’t gonna snark out anything else, he looked up to the Sheriff. “I think we’re dealing with a copycat who’s holding to the same M.O. and the same dumpsite.”</p>
<p>“Only you never released any of that to the press,” Rossi pointed out, looking over at Sheriff Caulfield. The older man shook his head. Just as a lightbulb went off in my mind, Spencer spoke my thoughts out loud. </p>
<p>“To be this precise, he would’ve had to learn it from someone…”</p>
<p>“A family member, a friend maybe?” I added on, tipping my head back. Our eyes met and he matched the smile I gave him when he realized we were on the same brainwave. </p>
<p>The gasp of surprise from Emily got all of us swiveling at once to stare at her as she rushed out, “Mary and Robert Wilkinson had a son. Charles Wilkinson, goes by Charlie.”</p>
<p>This time, both Sheriff Ballantyne <i>and</i> Sheriff Caulfield made noises of disbelief. The elder man beside Rossi looked around at us and asked skeptically, “are you really suggesting there is a genetic predisposition to killing?”</p>
<p>“It’s can be a factor, that’s for sure,” Morgan confirmed, abandoning his spot at the map to step up beside Hotch as he elaborated, “along with psychology and socialization, it can add up to being one hell of a stressor. Right, sunshine?”</p>
<p>Now all eyes fell to me and I admittedly shrunk just a hint under all the sudden attention. Long, gentle fingers brushed the back of my arm; Spencer’s silent reassurance helped me find my voice again. Managing a nod of confirmation, I explained, “if you take a combination of genetics from an UnSub like this and toss it into a son who grew up without a father, it could be a recipe for disaster. He’d spend his whole life searching for his own identity, trying to find out where he came from, and finding out his dad was a killer… it could definitely pile together to make an UnSub where there might not have been one before.”</p>
<p>Sheriff Ballantyne still looked unconvinced. At this point, I was pretty sure Robert Wilkinson could’ve risen from his grave and offed one of us right in front of him and he’d still have his doubts. Sheriff Caulfield, however, seemed to have taken to mine and Morgan’s explanation. </p>
<p>“Now that you mention it, thinking about Charlie Wilkinson when he was 15… boy killed a neighbor’s cat. He put it in a bag and hit it against a tree.”</p>
<p>My face pulled into a grimace and Emily met my unsettled frown as she said,</p>
<p>“That’s never a good sign. You’d be hard-pressed to find an animal abuser <i>without</i> the makings of a psychopath. How old is Charlie Wilkinson now?”</p>
<p>“Mary was pregnant with him when Robert died,” Sheriff Caulfield said, and our group all drew in a collective, tense breath. Rossi was the one to finally say out loud,</p>
<p>“Twenty-seven. That’d make him roughly the same age Robert was when he started killing.”</p>
<p>All eight of actually jumped when my phone began to ring. Stifling my yelp of alarm, I scrambled to answer it and, realizing who it was, I threw it on speakerphone instantly. </p>
<p>“Hey, Penny. Tell me you and JJ have something for us.”</p>
<p>“Would we ever disappoint you, my sweetness?” at the bemused chuckle I let out, she followed with, “I thought you’d like to know we just managed to prove Karen Foley was indeed lying to you.”</p>
<p>All of the others around me all perked up at that. I sat up a little straighter and asked quickly, “really? I was right about that?”</p>
<p>“Oh, right doesn’t begin to cover it. Check your phone, honeybee. I’ve got something you’re gonna wanna see.”</p>
<p>-- </p>
<p>The number of traffic laws I broke racing to Ms. Foley’s house was something Emily and I wouldn’t be disclosing to Hotch. I cut the travel time in half and we skid to a stop at the end of her driveway in just <i>barely</i> over ten minutes. </p>
<p>We leapt out and practically ran for the house; Emily was ringing the doorbell before we even got onto the porch. As soon as Ms. Foley spotted us through the window, she was scowling. </p>
<p>“What are you doing back here?” she demanded as she ripped open her front door. She spared a wary look at Emily before her furious gaze fell to me again. “I told you before, I don’t know anything –“</p>
<p>“We know what Robert Wilkinson did to you,” Emily told her, and at the name of her abuser, the woman in front of me shrunk back into herself. The bravado she’d thrown out at us instantly vanished, and she just couldn’t keep herself from flinching. </p>
<p>I knew that instinctual terror. My stomach churned <i>for</i> her, watching as she tried to fight the memories that were surfacing. As much as I hated dragging the poor woman back through all this, we were out of time to go slow. She didn’t look at me as I pressed, “we know that you were raped by him, and we know that you have a son because of it.”</p>
<p>Ms. Foley took another step back, her arms crossing protectively over herself as her eyes fell to the floor. For a couple of moments, I thought she’d try to deny what I was saying again. This time, though, she finally looked back up to me. </p>
<p>Her eyes were soft now, shimmering with tears. The pain she’d been burying for so long had come burning through her again and I couldn’t help the guilt that rose up in me. In that moment, I felt her fear. I remembered the instant terror that had gripped me seeing Connor’s text that night at Penelope’s. The sickening panic that had rooted me to the spot hearing his voice for the first time in three years, the way my heart had seemed to stop every single time I said his name…  </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” I whispered instinctually, my voice catching over the honest words that came spilling out before I could stop them. Ms. Foley held my stare for several long, aching moments. She was trying to read me like she had been yesterday, searching for any hint that I was lying. After a moment of studying my genuinely empathetic expression, she just cleared her throat and told us softly,</p>
<p>“Stephen, my son… he doesn’t know the truth.”</p>
<p>“May we come in?” Emily asked her, stepping up to my side. Whether she was truly accepting us into her home or whether she was too tired to fight this battle today, all she did was nod and step back to let us in. She shut the door silently, took a slow breath, and then motioned for us to follow her into the living room.</p>
<p>Emily and I sank down onto one of the couches as she settled across from us on the other. Then, to my complete surprise, her eyes fell to her lap and she began to twist her skirt nervously around her fingers. Just like me. <i>Just like I was doing now</i>. My hands stilled and I forced them to spread out over my knees. Emily thankfully caught my own hesitation, and she took the lead for us. She sat forward and propped her elbows on her knees as she studied the trembling woman in front of us. </p>
<p>“You never told Stephen about his father?”</p>
<p>Ms. Foley shook her head quickly. “No. I… I made him out to be a hero. I wanted to have someone he could look up to, even if he didn’t really have a father to help raise him.”</p>
<p>“You were worried about how he was going to turn out, weren’t you?” Emily continued, and after a brief hesitation, Ms. Foley finally nodded. “Why did you decide to have Stephen, if you were so concerned he’d take after his father?”</p>
<p>Twice, Ms. Foley opened her mouth to answer and nothing came out. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she hurriedly wiped them away. Maybe it was because I was getting better at profiling, or more realistically, maybe it was because I could relate to her more than I thought, but I already knew the answer. </p>
<p>“You didn’t want to make your baby pay for what his father did,” I guessed, and finally I got her to look up at me again. Her lip trembled, and she gave me a shaky nod. I smiled at her just a hint; I got it, I really did. Which is why I hated to segue into our overarching concern. “Ms. Foley, we… we know Stephen’s been drinking again. He just got out of jail for a DUI, right?”</p>
<p>Now, the woman across from me went alarmingly still. Her eyes instantly hardened as her defenses rose and her own fingers went still in her lap as well. “What are you trying to say, Miss DiMaggio?”</p>
<p>“You lied about your past because you’re protecting your son,” Emily profiled now; Ms. Foley wouldn’t even look at her as she continued, “and now you’re scared that he’s the one who might be hurting these women, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Before she got the chance to answer, though, the front door opened. Emily and I got to our feet as a young man – who I assumed was Stephen Foley – came inside. He paused seeing Emily and I already looking at him, and his eyes fell to Ms. Foley. </p>
<p>“Mom, what’s going –“ he cut off, rushing to her side in concern when he saw the tears in her eyes. Instantly he turned to us and his face darkened. “Who the hell are you? What’s going on?”</p>
<p>“I’m Emily Prentiss, and this is Aria DiMaggio, FBI,” Emily announced, which got Stephen tensing instantly. “We’re investigating the disappearance of four women from this area.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. The girl over at the Monroe farm,” he said slowly, still looking between the three of us. “I heard about that.”</p>
<p>“What do you know about the case, Stephen?” I prompted, watching as he moved forward to sink down beside his mom. </p>
<p>It was clear he was standoffish about the situation, just like his mom; it got Emily and I sharing a look of concern. After all Ms. Foley had gone through, all she’d overcome… man, I really hoped we had the wrong son. </p>
<p>Stephen scoffed at my question and started, “I don’t know anything about –“</p>
<p>“Does the name Robert Wilkinson mean anything to you?” I threw out, which not only got him recoiling like I’d slapped him, but also got Ms. Foley reacting as well. Her whole body tensed up and she rushed, </p>
<p>“Please, Miss DiMaggio, don’t say anything –“</p>
<p>“No, mom. It’s okay,” Stephen cut in. Ms. Foley whipped around to stare at her son in shock. He just reached out and took her hand as he held his questioning stare with me. “Is this about what he did to my mom?”</p>
<p>I, understandably, didn’t quite know what to say to that. Ms. Foley was still gaping at Stephen – much like Emily and I were – and in the silence he cleared his throat and turned to face his mom. </p>
<p>“I know you thought you could keep it a secret, but I’ve known who my father is for a long time,” he told her, almost apologetically. “I know it was him. I know what he did, mom.”</p>
<p>“I – no,” she insisted, shaking her head, more tears falling as she desperately clung to the life she’d built for him. “You don’t – that’s – your dad was a good man –“</p>
<p>“No, mom. He wasn’t. He… Robert Wilkinson raped you.” Ms. Foley cut off with a sob and pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to hold herself together as he continued, “that day I was cleanin’ out the garage, and I found that article about Wilkinson dying in the farming accident, you remember? When you found me holding that newspaper, the look on your face… well, it wasn’t hard for me to figure it out.”</p>
<p>Ms. Foley shook her head, dropping her hand back to her lap as she stared at him in disbelief. “But – Stephen, that was almost ten years ago. You mean – you knew this whole time? You knew I was lyin’ about your dad?”</p>
<p>“They were really great stories,” he offered, getting a watery chuckle from his mom as she reached up, cupping his face. He leaned into her touch, smiling a bit as he said, “I knew you liked makin’ me think he was a good guy. I knew it was important to you, and I didn’t wanna take that away.” </p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, honey,” she cried, dropping her hold on him to bury her face in her hands. “I never wanted… I let you down, Stephen. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to be a good mom –“</p>
<p>She cut off with a sob, and I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. Slowly, I moved around the coffee table and came up to the two of them. As I sank onto the cushion beside her, Ms. Foley lifted her head to fix her watery gaze on me. </p>
<p>The pain in her eyes cut me straight to the core, taking my breath away. Heartbreak, feeling like she’d let her son down. Raw agony as she ran through the memories of Robert Wilkinson, which brought on flickers of fury at the man who’d abused her and tore her apart. And, just like me, the hidden shame that was buried deep inside of her, the scars left behind that managed to convince her this was all somehow her fault. </p>
<p>Her own Connor had shattered her and left the pieces behind, and though she’d put them back together, the pain she’d never be able to get rid of shone through the cracks. Before I realized it, I’d reached out to rest a hand on her knee; she didn’t push me away. Her eyes didn’t waver from my own as I told her softly, </p>
<p>“His dad might not have been the great man you wanted him to believe he was, but <i>you</i> were a great mom to him. You <i>are</i> a great mom. You protected him, and despite the odds you rose up from what he tore you down to, and you made a good life for your son. The selfless love you gave him, all the hurdles you jumped to make sure he’d be okay… you raised him to become a good man.”</p>
<p>Ms. Foley didn’t speak, but the hand she settled over my own told me more than words ever could. Though she dropped her eyes to her lap again, she kept her hold on me. On her other side, Stephen cleared his throat and glanced between Emily and I. </p>
<p>“Let me guess. The FBI thinks the old case is connected to the new murders?”</p>
<p>“Yes we do,” Emily said. I didn’t miss the tensing of his jaw, the way his shoulders hunched in just a hint… he knew what we were here for. </p>
<p>“Wilkinson’s dead… but I’m not, right?” he asked us quietly; Emily nodded, and Stephen looked down at his mom. Hurt flashed in his eyes, indignation beginning to rise. “Mom, you really think I could do something like this?”</p>
<p>My protective instincts spiked and I spoke before Ms. Foley had even looked up at him. “We’re not accusing you, Stephen. I promise. We had to come here just to double check, but we’re not blaming you for this.” After a pause, as Stephen looked to me briefly before back at his mom, I urged, “none of us are.”</p>
<p>Ms. Foley’s hand tightened again, a silent thanks for defending her. I gave her knee a squeeze in return; I understood. I knew why she’d lied to us yesterday, and I didn’t blame her one bit. I knew why she’d lied to Stephen. Why she had lied to every single person that’d undoubtedly asked her about her abuse, about her child’s father, about her scars and her past that she was so desperate to leave behind…</p>
<p>Trying to move myself past what Connor put me through was exhausting and, at times, seemed impossible. The woman beside me had managed to overcome so much for herself and her son, and I wasn’t letting her doubt her choices or her strength. </p>
<p>“I didn’t kill anyone,” Stephen insisted, looking around to each one of us. “I swear it.”</p>
<p>Emily and I shared a look, a small smile, and then she gave him a nod; we were on the same page. “We believe you.”</p>
<p>He cleared his throat and gave a terse nod, ducking his head as he let our assurance sink in. I shifted forward a bit to face them, and Ms. Foley looked up to meet my gentle stare. </p>
<p>“I really hate to ask this… but, if you can, could you walk us through what you remember?” she tensed beneath my hand and I added quickly, “if you can’t, I understand. We won’t push you. But… anything you can give, any details, no matter how insignificant they may seem, they might be able to help us stop him.”</p>
<p>“You might be able to save other girls from goin’ through what I went through,” she murmured; when I nodded, she let out a shaky breath. “I… I’ll try.”</p>
<p>“Take your time,” Emily encouraged, coming around to perch on the coffee table in front of us. It was a subtle psychology technique, and I was glad she’d somehow read my mind (seriously, I was convinced all of them could at this point). The three of us had built a protective space around her, helping assure she was physically safe so that going back through the frightening memories would be a little easier. </p>
<p>“I… it’s hard to know what actually happened, and what I was just imagining. The drugs… I had a hard time knowin’ what was real, and what I was just dreamin’. Sometimes I remember wanderin’ outside in the dark, sometimes I remember bein’ chained up… All I know for sure is the barn. He covered my head almost all the time so I couldn’t see where we were. Not like it mattered. He kept me so high I didn’t even know what day it was. I – he made me dance for him,” she whispered, shutting her eyes tight. More tears fell; my hand flipped over, and I took hold of hers. Her fingers tightened around mine as she drew in a shaky breath. “He called it our little party. He – he’d drink, get himself riled up, and then…”</p>
<p>She cut off, sucking in a sharp breath, eyes snapping open. For a few moments her gaze darted around the living room, over us, reassuring she wasn’t there with him. Emily reached out now and put a hand on her other knee as Stephen wrapped an arm tight around her shoulder. </p>
<p>“Do you remember how you got away?” I asked, wanting to pull her away from the dark images I knew were starting to flicker through her mind. She swallowed hard and gave a shaky nod. </p>
<p>“Y-yes. He… he got so drunk one night he passed out. He’d forgotten to cuff me up again, and I realized the barn door was open. I just – I ran. I didn’t stop runnin’ till I got to the police station.”</p>
<p>I felt Stephen draw back away from her and all of us looked up quickly to him. He wasn’t looking at his mom, he was looking between Emily and I. There was rising, thinly-veiled anger in his stare as he bit out, “the cops didn’t believe the story, did they?”</p>
<p>“No,” I told him, not even making an attempt to cover up my own disgust. Ms. Foley looked up at me as Stephen met my eyes. “They wrote her off as a junkie. We’ve done a lot of research on Fredericksburg back in the 80’s, and I know the Wilkinson’s have been a well-known family for a couple generations. Everyone knew Robert’s parents, and everyone knew Robert. Everyone <i>liked</i> Robert. Suddenly, some young girl high out of her mind comes running in, saying the Wilkinson boy they watched grow up did all these horrible things? It didn’t fit into the view they had of him. Instead of taking her word, they wrote her off. It was easier to dismiss her accusations than face the possibility someone they respected could do such a terrible thing.” </p>
<p>“They said that. About Robert. They said he could never do something like that,” she whispered, looking up at me stunned. “How on earth did you know what they said?”</p>
<p>My heart wrenched. I knew that look on her face. It was the same one I’d seen in the mirror the night after Connor had attacked me. After my own parents called me a liar. After they <i>apologized</i> to Connor for the ‘<i>terrible things I said about him</i>’.</p>
<p>I gave her a small smile as I told her simply, “I’ve… seen it happen before. I know it doesn’t help you now, and I can’t take back what they made you feel, but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry they didn’t believe you.”</p>
<p>“But we do,” Emily promised her, nodding along with me. “Thank you for trusting us, I know that was hard to walk though, but it helps us. Aria and I are going to do all we can to make sure we stop –“</p>
<p>Emily’s phone started ringing and all of us fell silent as she pulled it out, glancing to me as she answered, “yeah, Hotch. What’ve you got?... you <i>what</i>? Yeah, yeah. We can be there in a bit.”</p>
<p>As she hung up, she met my questioning stare and said decisively, “Hotch needs us at the Wilkinson house.”</p>
<p>Though Emily stood, I hesitated. The thought of leaving Ms. Foley here after we’d just ripped through her painful history didn’t sit right with me. I’d just opened my mouth to tell Em I’d catch up when Ms. Foley cleared her throat. </p>
<p>“I’ll be alright, hon. I’ve been alright for almost thirty years,” she assured with a gentle smile. When I still didn’t stand, she added, “those poor girls need you more than I do right now. I’ll be just fine. I mean it.”</p>
<p>“I’ll make sure of it,” Stephen promised us both, standing and urging his mom to join him. Squeezing my hand again, Ms. Foley stood and tugged me up after her. On my feet, we let go of one another, but she reached up and rested her hand on my arm in another quiet, thankful gesture. </p>
<p>“You still have Emily’s card, so if you need anything, just call and I’ll come straight back,” I told her. She just nodded, tears in her eyes, and as we stepped back she added, </p>
<p>“It might not help, but I remembered something else. I… where he held me, there was a peace symbol. I scratched it into the wall. I touched it every night before he – before he came for me.”</p>
<p>“It does help. Thank you,” I told her, smiling in appreciation. She let out a shaky breath and nodded quickly, clutching her sweater tighter around her shoulders. Stephen, at her side again, wrapped his arm around her. </p>
<p>I didn’t need to worry. Ms. Foley was strong. She’d picked herself back up, dusted herself off, and carried both her and her son through the hellish memories Robert Wilkinson had left her in.</p>
<p>She would pull through this too. She would be okay.</p>
<p>Emily and I raced across the small town – breaking even more traffic laws than before – and reached the Wilkinson farm in what had to be record time. Spencer was waiting for us as we pulled up; he was a comfort I didn’t know I’d needed after going through all that with Ms. Foley. Emily and I hurried up to him, and he pointed back towards a barn on the far side of the property; my stomach churned. Ms. Foley had mentioned he took her to a barn… </p>
<p>“Hotch and the others are in there. It’s… we’re sure it’s Charlie,” he explained, falling into step with us as we hurried across the lot. I pulled a face and, though I figured I already knew the answer, I still asked, </p>
<p>“No sign of Molly or Tara?”</p>
<p>Spencer shook his head, meeting my disappointed frown with one of his own. As we reached the barn, Hotch heard us approaching and he peeled off from the others to meet our little group. When he reached us, I asked him quickly, </p>
<p>“Did you guys happen to find a peace sign? Ms. Foley said she carved one into the wall where she was being kept.”</p>
<p>“Not that I’m aware of,” Hotch regrettably reported. “It doesn’t seem like this is where he held them, and I don’t think Charlie would hold them here now. He’d need something more isolated.”</p>
<p>“Ms. Foley wasn’t certain, but I definitely think she was kept somewhere else,” Emily agreed, looking around the barn. “Even drugged up, they’d make too much noise close to the house to be kept here for long.”</p>
<p>“Going off our profile, he must’ve kept her nearby,” Spencer pointed out, hands stuffing into his pockets as he studied the barn. “Maybe he had another barn down the road? Another safehouse?”</p>
<p>I’d been looking around too, mind wandering back to what Ms. Foley had said. <i>Wanderin’ around outside in the dark…</i> Slowly, I turned and made my way back to the barn door. Spencer, at my side, instantly moved to follow me as he called out, “Aria? What is it?”</p>
<p>Outside the barn, I took a proper look around us. Almost all sides of the property were bordered by forest. The ground around and inside the barn was just dirt – <i>soft and cool</i>, like she’d said – but the forest floor would be hard, littered with sticks and rocks that’d hurt to step on barefoot, uneven ground to make her trip… </p>
<p>“She thought she was walking outside at times,” I said, looking up when Spencer reached my side once again. Footsteps crunching behind me got me glancing back to see Emily, Hotch, and now Morgan had followed us outside. “She wasn’t totally sure, since he had her drugged, but if her peace sign isn’t here, I think she was right. I think he was keeping her somewhere else and he made her walk back and forth.”</p>
<p>Hotch folded his arms over his chest, frown deepening as he finished, “wherever he took her to is probably where Charlie’s holding Tara and Molly now.”</p>
<p>Morgan glanced around – taking in the overwhelming amount of trees around us like I had – and sighed. “That’s a lot of ground to cover, especially if we’re not sure. Sunshine, you think Ms. Foley could handle comin’ back here so we could do a cognitive? Maybe jog her memories?”</p>
<p>“I… I really don’t know,” I told the guys around us, sharing a glance with Emily. She looked just as uncertain as I felt. “Just looking back in the safety of her home was rough. To have her back here…”</p>
<p>“We wouldn’t ask if we had any other choice,” Spencer said gently at my shoulder. I tipped my head up, and I caught the look of understanding he held. A glance at Hotch and Morgan met me with the same stare. They all knew where my mind was at. They knew exactly what I was thinking. </p>
<p><i>I would never want to go back to Connor’s apartment. How can I ask her to come back to this barn</i>?</p>
<p>Emily reached up and settled a comforting hand on my shoulder. When I met her eyes she told me softly, “I think… if it were you asking her to, I think she’d agree to it. You got through to her, and if you asked, I think she’ll want to help us save Tara and Molly.”</p>
<p>“I know,” I sighed, heart sinking to my stomach as I slowly pulled out my phone. “I just wish I didn’t have to ask.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The police car approaching the barn caught my attention. I looked up instantly, heart sinking impossibly lower when I realized Ms. Foley was here. Hotch, Emily, and Rossi had gone to the Wilkinson house to dig through some of Robert’s old journals that Charlie’s wife had turned over.  </p>
<p>Spencer, though, was right at my side. When I looked up at him, the guilt starting to rise up again, he gave me a supporting nod. “It’ll be okay.”</p>
<p>Three simple words quelled the anxiety buzzing through me as I nodded in return and started for the police car. Was this a terrible idea? Would it bring back the trauma and ruin all the progress she’d made over the years? Would we destroy the life Ms. Foley had pieced together? What if it didn’t even work, and we broke her down for nothing?</p>
<p>I couldn’t think like that. Not right now. I had to focus, and I had to trust the team – trust <i>myself</i>. This was the best option we had, and this was going to help. It was going to be okay. Spencer said so, and he was never wrong. </p>
<p>“Thank you so much for doing this,” I said as Ms. Foley climbed out of the car. Stephen, thankfully, had joined her too. More support, more reassurance. It would be okay. “I’m so sorry. I know how hard this is for you.”</p>
<p>Stephen came around the car to stand beside his mom as she took a shallow, panicked breath. “She’s been shakin’ the whole way here. You sure this has to happen? Maybe we should –“</p>
<p>“I – I can do this,” Ms. Foley whispered, looking between us. She paused as more people came forward, looking at the others around us. “Are these more of your team?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah. Emily’s busy helping with something else, but they’re all here to help us. To help you,” I promised. “This is Agent Rossi and Dr. Reid. We’re all gonna walk through this with you, okay?”</p>
<p>As I moved back to give her space, her hand shot out and caught my own. Her panicked eyes met mine as she clung to me and asked, “stay with me. Please.”</p>
<p>Silently, I nodded and flipped my hand over, lacing our fingers together and giving a squeeze. My other hand folded over hers and I held tight to her. “I’m here. We’ll do this together, okay?”</p>
<p>“Okay,” she whispered, taking a trembling breath as she turned to face the barn. Stephen was on her other side, and the two of us slowly led her forward. The moment we reached the barn door, though, Ms. Foley froze and sunk back into her son’s hold. </p>
<p>“Oh, god…” she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut, fingers tightening around my own. </p>
<p>“Are you okay?” I asked quickly. She turned to me, putting her back to the barn as gave a shaky nod. </p>
<p>“It’s… that smell. The dirt, the rotting wood, the rusting metal…” she shuddered and struggled to take a breath. As her eyes opened, I felt her tense. She was looking over my shoulder, and I turned to follow her gaze as she asked slowly, “who is that?”</p>
<p>The woman behind us, standing with Sheriff Caulfield, was someone new to me. I shook my head and Spencer stepped up to us to say, “that’s Mary Wilkinson. Robert Wilkinson’s –“</p>
<p>“<i>The wife</i>?!” she hissed, ripping out of both mine and Stephen’s hold. Fury instantly ignited behind her teary eyes and her face twisted into pure disgust. “He tortured me <i>every single night</i>! Could you hear my screams!? <i>Did you kiss him when he was finished with me</i>!?”</p>
<p>“Ms. – Ms. Foley, don’t to this to yourself,” I started quickly, trying to hold her back. She wrenched her arm out of my hold and knocked me back out of her way. Spencer’s arm wrapped around my shoulders to steady me, and I sank into his hold just a hint. I didn’t have it in my heart to stop her. </p>
<p>I’d wanted to do the same thing. I wanted to scream at my ‘friends’ back home, at Connor’s neighbors, at my family… I wanted them to explain why they’d refused to help me when I needed it. </p>
<p>“What did you think he was doing in that barn every night?! Did you even ask? Why didn’t you stop him? <i>Why didn’t you help me</i>?! Did you even <i>care</i> –“</p>
<p>“<i>I killed him</i>!” Mary shouted, cutting off Ms. Foley instantly and getting a gasp of surprise from both Spencer and myself. Jolted back to the present, I hurried up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her hand came up to tangle into my sweater, hanging onto me as she breathed out, </p>
<p>“You… what?”</p>
<p>Mary just gave a terse nod, ignoring the gaping stares from the rest of us as she held Ms. Foley’s tearful gaze. “Before Charlie was born. I came home, I saw this place, and I knew what he’d done. And I couldn’t let my innocent baby be brought into <i>this</i>.”</p>
<p>I looked back in alarm to Spencer and Rossi. What the heck did we do with <i>this</i> now?! Ms. Foley sank against me, nodding slowly as she let the words fully sink in. And then, she gave a small nod as she whispered, </p>
<p>“You killed… you did?” Mary nodded, and Ms. Foley actually smiled just a bit. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Mary gave another nod, and thankfully Rossi skirted past us to go handle the bomb that’d just been dropped on us. He waved me back to Spencer, and gently I turned Ms. Foley back around to lead her back towards the barn. </p>
<p>Though she tensed again, she didn’t freeze. Hearing that Mary Wilkinson had killed Robert… hearing someone had stood up for her all those years ago, it gave her the strength today to walk into that barn. </p>
<p>Stephen and Spencer walked behind us, and Ms. Foley took my hand once again as we moved further inside. She held tight to me as she looked around; she’d started shaking again. “I… I don’t know what I can do, Miss DiMaggio. He… he always had that bag over my head, and I don’t really remember anythin’ outside of this barn.”</p>
<p>“With your sight taken away, your other senses might’ve been in overdrive,” Spencer explained. “We’re going to walk you through a recall technique that plays off all five senses, allowing your mind to find the information you think you’re missing.”</p>
<p>Ms. Foley took another breath – a little deeper and less shaky – and then nodded. Still holding her hand, I moved a little closer and instructed, “shut your eyes for me, and let’s take a couple steps. Think about what the ground felt like.”</p>
<p>She did as I asked, her other hand coming over to hold onto my sweater again as we slowly took a few steps through the barn. She paused suddenly, head tilting to the side, face screwing up as she let herself get pulled back through her memories. </p>
<p>“Leaves… twigs. The ground was really uneven, and I stumbled a lot. Bumped into bushes and branches. There was a hill we had to climb when he took me back,” she murmured. Her hand slowly lifted off mine and she reached out, fingers closing around something that wasn’t there. “At the end, we’d stop for a bit before he locked me away. There’s something… soft, cold. It’s over something hard…”</p>
<p>“Was it wood? A tree, maybe?” I offered up, and she shook her head slowly.</p>
<p>“No, no… it’s… stone. It was rocks. They were tall, taller than me. I was surrounded by rocks when he’d lock me up –“</p>
<p>“Along the north side of the property,” Mary told us from the doorway of the barn. Ms. Foley’s eyes snapped open, and we all turned to look over at her and Rossi as Mary explained, “there’re some big boulders about a quarter mile past the house. I can take you there.”</p>
<p>Rossi nodded, and motioned for Mary to follow him. Spencer rested his hand against my arm to get my attention, and when I looked back he said quickly, “I’ll go get Hotch.”</p>
<p>As he, Rossi, and Mary raced off towards the house, Ms. Foley looked up to me in surprise. “Did… did that help?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” I promised her, smiling and squeezing her hand. “That helps us so much. Here, let’s get out of this place. I can run and grab you some water, alright?”</p>
<p>She nodded wordlessly and let me pull her back out of the barn. Only once Stephen had his arm around her did I dare pull my hand away. Before I could move for the house, though, Ms. Foley called out quickly, </p>
<p>“You were wrong, Miss DiMaggio.” Concern prickled through me and I looked back, tipping my head in confusion when I saw the smile on her face. “At my house, you apologized. You said it didn’t help now, but it did. It really helps, more than you know.”</p>
<p>Tears came to <i>my</i> eyes now, and I swallowed hard to try and keep them back. I gave her a quick nod as I said softly, “I’m really glad it did.”</p>
<p>“And…” she added, before I could turn away. She reached out and took hold of my hand as she told me, “I’m sorry too.”</p>
<p>“Why are you sorry?” </p>
<p>“I know why you believed my story, and I know why you knew the police officers sided with Robert. You said you filed a report like mine, and I’m sorry to see the same pain in you that I have in me.” The tears fell down my cheeks unexpectedly, and I hurriedly reached up with my free hand to brush them off. As I did, I saw Ms. Foley look past me again, and I turned to see Mary Wilkinson heading off into the forest with Hotch and Morgan. </p>
<p>When I looked back to her, she was crying too, and she gave my hand a squeeze as she whispered, “I see the same strength in you that I saw in myself that morning, when I realized there was no one there to pick me up so I’d have to do it myself. I know you’ll move past what you’ve had to go through, and I hope one day you’ll get the same closure I got… even if it takes thirty years and a combine harvester.”</p>
<p>Laughing at that probably wasn’t appropriate, but thankfully Ms. Foley joined in. For just a few moments, I wasn’t an intern with the FBI and she wasn’t a traumatized mom trying to fight her way through life. We weren’t <i>victims</i>. We were two survivors pushing past the trauma and laughing the wake of all the painful, lingering memories that had become a part of us. </p>
<p>As we let go of one another, Ms. Foley stepping back to her son as I started after my team – <i>my family</i> - the weight of the abuse and the ache of the scars Connor had left eased up just a bit. It wasn’t over, of course. Not by a long shot. I knew that my past, my pain, it would stay with me in some way for the rest of my life. </p>
<p>The abuse was a part of me, but it wasn’t <i>all</i> of me. </p>
<p>I wouldn’t let it define me. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The drive back to Quantico had been a quiet one. Hotch and Spencer, stuck with me again, didn’t even tease me about my speeding. Spencer’s silence in the backseat – lost in two different books – didn’t really surprise me. </p>
<p>It was the man in the seat next to me that had me concerned. Hotch hadn’t said much to me after the case had come to a close. He’d checked on me, of course, but as soon as I assured the tears on my face were <i>good</i> tears, he’d slipped away and hadn’t seen him until we’d all gathered by the SUV’s to leave. </p>
<p>Even now, as the team reconvened in the bullpen and started to pack up, he’d gone straight up to his office.  Worry gnawed at the back of my mind as I ran back through the events of the day. At this point I doubted he’d slept at <i>all</i> last night, and now he had to be running on fumes. </p>
<p>Was he just tired? Had the case touched him in some way like it’d touched me? What I wouldn’t pay to read minds like he undoubtedly could… my troubled thoughts were pushed aside as Morgan slung his bag over his shoulder and called out, </p>
<p>“Alright, who’s up for a drink?”</p>
<p>“Ooh,” Emily said instantly, coming up to the rest of us with JJ and Penelope in tow. My best friend instantly scuttled to my side, wrapping me in a much-needed hug as Em teased, “who’s up for <i>five</i>?”</p>
<p>She, Rossi, and JJ instantly put up their hands, but as Spencer wrestled the strap of his bag over his head he mumbled, </p>
<p>“Um, I don’t know –“</p>
<p>“Uh-uh. Stop with the ‘<i>I don’t knows</i>’. You’re in, kid.” When I looked up, I saw Spencer glance back at me. Morgan followed his gaze, shared a dangerous smile with Penelope, and then asked, “what about you, sunshine? You comin’ out with us?”</p>
<p>“I owe you a drink for giving me a ride the other morning anyways,” Penny chirped, looping her arm with mine and leaning against me with a playful smile. I rolled my eyes. </p>
<p>“No, you don’t. You just want to see me drunk,” I laughed; she shrugged in agreement. I’d been planning on getting a jump on my homework before class on Monday, but when I caught sight of the hopeful smile on Spencer’s face, how could I resist? Butterflies already flurrying through me, I nodded and joined the others as we headed for the elevator. “Yeah, yeah. Might as well. Someone’s gotta keep you guys in line.”</p>
<p>Hotch had somehow slipped past our group, pulling ahead of us and starting to make a beeline for the glass doors. The concern spiked again; he never left without telling us all goodnight. I pulled free from Penelope’s hold and trotted forward, calling out, </p>
<p>“Hey, Hotch?” he paused and looked back, surprised to hear me stopping him. I offered a small smile and asked, “you wanna come have a drink with us?” </p>
<p>To my relief, the tiniest smile flickered over his face and he gave a little nod. “Yeah, sure. I think we could all use a break –“</p>
<p>“Agent Aaron Hotchner?” The man that had practically materialized in the bullpen with us froze when all seven of us snapped our startled stares onto him. He quickly held out a manilla envelope to him and asked, “can I get a signature from you?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Hotch murmured, tucking the envelope under his arm as the little bit of happiness I’d pulled out of him instantly disappeared. He passed the clipboard back and then stared down at the envelope. </p>
<p>The rest of us shared a collectively puzzled look, and then Morgan motioned for me to say something. Giving him a frown, I stepped up and asked him worriedly, </p>
<p>“Hotch? What is it?”</p>
<p>He let out a slow breath, collecting himself before he looked up at me. Though his face was as stoic as it had been all night, he couldn’t hide the pain shimmering in his dark eyes. He held my stare for a heartbeat before he told me, “Haley’s filing for divorce. I’ve been served.”</p>
<p>My heart plunged into my stomach and for a moment I couldn’t take a breath. He saw the shock on my face and he pressed his lips together tight before turning and leaving us without another word. </p>
<p>What?! <i>Divorce</i>? I’d just – just <i>yesterday</i> he’d stayed home and had breakfast with her! They were going to marriage counseling, Hotch said they were starting to talk again, they’d been so sweet and <i>happy</i> when I’d stayed for dinner… </p>
<p>As the others started to murmur together behind me, I turned and began to back for the doors. They all fell silent as they looked up at me, and I said simply, “raincheck on the drinks. I’ll see you guys later.”</p>
<p>The team nodded in understanding. Penelope and Spencer offered waves as I turned and hurried off through the lobby. I didn’t bother with the elevator. If I knew Hotch – and I liked to think I did at this point – he wouldn’t be going to his car. He wouldn’t be ready to go home just yet. </p>
<p>It wasn’t hard to find him, really. He’d gone down to the courtyard between the buildings, and he’d settled on the same bench we often ended up at after training. Part of me was hopeful that he’d let me find him, because he didn’t seem at all surprised when I took a seat beside him. </p>
<p>He was staring straight ahead, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, hand clasped beneath his chin. The envelope sat between us and I picked it up, staring down at it as I said softly, </p>
<p>“I never thought to ask you yesterday how breakfast went, and now I really wish I had.”</p>
<p>Hotch was quiet for another couple of moments. When he finally spoke, he was so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him. </p>
<p>“She said she couldn’t feel the love between us anymore,” he began, still staring straight ahead. There weren’t any tears in his eyes, no catch in his voice, but I could feel the agony through the words he forced out. “She told me every moment we had together now was so overshadowed by my dedication to this job that she couldn’t enjoy the time we spent with each other. All she could think about was when I’d break my next promise to come home to her and Jack. She said I had to decide who I loved more… my family, or my team.”</p>
<p>It took me a second to respond because <i>I</i> was getting choked up. I cleared my throat and finally asked, “what did you say to her?”</p>
<p>“I told her JJ had just called. That we had a case and the team needed me. I told her I had to go,” he whispered bitterly, the disgust at his own actions leaking through the defenses he was fighting so hard to keep up. “Haley said that if I left, she’d have my answer. As I was walking out, I asked if she could give me a little more time to make things right. Now I have her answer, too.”</p>
<p>Hotch’s hands tightened under his chin, his lips pressed together, but he didn’t cry. I could see him fighting to keep himself as composed as he always was, fighting to keep himself strong as the world around him tried to pull him to his knees. </p>
<p>God, I knew how heartbroken he had to be. He <i>loved</i> Haley, and the only person he loved more than her was Jack. He was a dedicated agent, and he poured his soul into making this world a better place, but his wife and son always had all of his heart. </p>
<p>He thought that the counseling would help fix it. He’d been so skeptical, but after that first session he was hopeful. He’d come into work smiling that Monday, telling me he felt closer to Haley than he had for years. Hotch had been so happy to finally start building his relationship back up with her and it had all been ripped out from under him. </p>
<p>I couldn’t blame Haley, as much as a part of me wanted to. She was just as hurt as he was, having him leave her and Jack constantly to go fix other families while his own fell apart. As valid as her own pain was, though, I was in Hotch’s corner. I had no idea how to fix this – and, really, I didn’t think it could be fixed anymore – but I knew what Hotch needed. </p>
<p>I sat the envelope aside and scooted closer to him so that I was pressed up against his side. He didn’t pull away but he went stiff at my touch. I took a deep breath – shoving down the lump in my throat – and told him softly,</p>
<p>“This super smart guy once told me, it’s okay if you lose it every once in a while, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It reminds us that we’re human.”</p>
<p>Hotch still didn’t look down at me, didn’t speak, and for several minutes he didn’t move. Then, gradually, his hands came down and his shoulders hunched in just a hint. And then, slowly, he bowed his head. His eyes shut tight and he let out a shaking breath. </p>
<p>Tears fell to the sidewalk beneath us, glinting in the soft light of the moon, a trembling staccato against the stillness of the night. All I could offer was my company, a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone in the darkness he had fallen into. </p>
<p>He didn’t speak; neither of us did anymore. We didn’t need to. I knew he appreciated me being there. He knew I understood this was all that I could offer, and that for now it was enough. There weren’t any words for this. </p>
<p>There was nothing more that could be said or done to fix what had broken tonight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday, you sweet little souls!</p>
<p>I wanted to thank you all again for all your kind thoughts and well wishes for my grandma. She passed away on the 10th and the last few days were rough. Honestly, though, having all your kindness from the last few weeks (well, honestly, the last like six months!) has really helped me through! Things are alright and thanks to you and this story I've been able to keep my head up. I can't thank you guys enough. </p>
<p>This chapter was a hard one, I know! There's a lot to unpack here, so I'm really looking forward to your thoughts! How do you feel about Aria and Ms. Foley? How about Hotch?! When will Rossi finally admit he's in the mob?? Let me know your thoughts! I know there wasn't a lot of Aria and Spencer in this one, but believe me when I say the next couple of chapters will be making up for that! </p>
<p>As always thank you guys so much for reading and supporting both the story and myself! I'm so happy to hear how much you love Aria and SLAS, and I hope this story makes your day brighter, just like you guys do for me!</p>
<p>Have an amazing week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. A Study in Lavender</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x12 - 3rd Life</i>
</p><p>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/638133184546078720/chapter-33-is-up">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Coffee? Check. </p><p>Breakfast sandwich? Check. </p><p>Getting up the nerve to call Spencer and let him know I was here to pick him up?... I was working on it, okay? </p><p>It’s not like it was some big, make-it or break-it date that would determine the course of our relationship – I mean, not that we <i>had</i> a relationship. Just that, you know, I <i>wanted</i> to actually try and pursue that possibility – if he even actually <i>liked</i> me like that… I mean, he had to, right? No, okay, he <i>didn’t</i>, but I really wanted him to – wait. Did bringing him breakfast make me seem too desperate? Well, I was, but that was beside the point.</p><p>Did this dress look okay? Not that I’d worn it trying to look cute for my crush or anything… was it obvious that I had? I knew I should’ve just worn the skirt and sweater! I’d gotten here a little early, there was still time… I could just change into the outfit in my go bag! No, what if we had a case? I’d still have to wear this again. Alright, I’d just run to WalMart, buy a totally new outfit, maybe get a different shade of lipstick because this one was a little too flashy –</p><p><i>Okay, okay, calm down. Get yourself together, Aria</i>!</p><p>Seriously, how bad was my crush that I could get <i>myself</i> all flustered?! I groaned and dropped my head back against the seat. This was fine, it was fine. It was <i>all</i> fine.  </p><p>It was cold and early, so the coffee made sense. Spencer had told me eggs were the best breakfast, so an egg and sausage breakfast sandwich from the coffee shop we’d gone to the last few weekends was a valid choice. Plus, it was Friday, which meant today deserved a little more razzle-dazzle than normal. </p><p>The dress was fine, the lipstick was fine, the breakfast was fine, <i>it was all fine</i>.</p><p>With a deep breath, I hit <i>call</i> before I could second-guess myself (for the tenth time) and practically held my breath as I waited for him to answer. On the third ring the phone picked up and I <i>just</i> kept myself from hanging up. </p><p>“Hi! Are you here?” Spencer chirped. I heard him grabbing his satchel and fumbling with his keys. Just at the sound of his voice I had a goofy grin on my face. <i>Jeeze</i>, okay. I had it bad. </p><p>“Yep! In my usual spot,” I reported, listening to him shuffling out the door. As his keys jingled more, I giggled and added, “it might be easier to lock up with both your hands.”</p><p>He giggled too and sighed, “I suppose you’re right. I’ll see you in a second.”</p><p>The second he hung up I scrambled to unlock the door. Which, admittedly, was a struggle. After months of shelling out for a rental, I had <i>finally</i> coordinated to get my own car delivered from Seattle. As nice as it was to have this one back, I’d been spoiled with the rental and I’d forgotten just how testy this Subaru could be. </p><p>After a few moments wrestling with the lock, I finally got it open just as Spencer came out of the building. He spotted me and gave a quick, cute wave, moving a little quicker to get to me. As soon as he settled into the seat, I held out the coffee. His face lit up as he took it, those warm caramel eyes crinkling at the edges with the smile he gave me. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said after taking a quick sip, smile widening even more. “You know, when I say you don’t need to make me coffee, I meant you don’t need to buy it either.”</p><p>I shrugged and pulled out of his parking lot, giving him a cheeky grin as we made for work. “Oops. I thought you meant I should be supporting small businesses instead. You’ll have to be more specific.” I reached back and grabbed the bag with his sandwich, setting it on his lap. As soon as he realized what it was, he groaned and gave me an exasperated shake of his head. </p><p>“Aria,” he began, though he had the sandwich out before he’d finished saying my name. The gentile chastising tone sent warmth sparking through me and I tried to hide my giddy grin. “You don’t have to buy me breakfast every time you give me a ride. I should be buying <i>you</i> food. Or, at the very least, I should be giving you money for gas –“</p><p>“I don’t need gas money,” I argued, getting a bemused smile from the handsome doctor. “I’ve told you before, my car doesn’t run on gas.”</p><p>“We both know that’s a lie. But if you won’t let me give you money, at least let me buy you –“</p><p>I turned on the radio. “Sorry, what? I missed that.”</p><p>Spencer reached out and started to turn it down. “Aria, you can’t be giving me rides for free <i>and</i> buying me breakfast multiple times a week –“</p><p>“Hmm? What was that?” I feigned, nudging his hand off the dial and turning the music up more. “Did you say I should keep buying you breakfast? Noted –“</p><p>“<i>Aria</i>,” he laughed, catching my hand and pushing it back at me gently as he tried to turn it down again. “Absolutely not. Don’t you dare –“</p><p>I pulled free and grabbed his hand, using it to turn the music up. Admittedly, I just liked holding onto him. <i>Because THAT’S not a creepy thought to have,</i> I pointed out to myself. I was being way too clingy… except, Spencer hadn’t let go of me either. </p><p>Our hands lingered together between us for almost an entire block before finally I had to take it back to put my turn signal on. With the music humming on low in the background, the soft scent of coffee, and the gentle comfort of his company… is this what <i>content</i> felt like? I could get used to this. </p><p>Honestly I could’ve lived in my own sappy thoughts the rest of the way to work (I mean, I did <i>most</i> days), but the chime from my phone snapped me back to the present. <i>Took Aubri long enough to reply</i>, I huffed to myself, and then and instantly remembered what I’d meant to tell Spencer earlier. </p><p>“Katie’s somehow finished the books you recommended last week,” I reported, sparing a glance at him just in time to catch the pleased smile that lit up his unfairly pretty face. “Apparently, she has a recommendation for <i>you</i> this time.”</p><p>Spencer made a noise of excitement at that and he sat up a little straighter. <i>Good lord he’s adorable</i>, I sighed, admitting full and total defeat to my smitten smile that took over. “She does? Great! What book?”</p><p>“Um,” I said slowly, grabbing my phone when we stopped at the last light before work. I skimmed the texts and reported, “something called <i>Eragon</i>. Dragons and stuff, I think.”</p><p>Spencer <i>hmm</i>’d, going quiet a second as he undoubtedly ran through his brilliant mind, trying to recall anything about the book. To my surprise, he finally said, “I haven’t read that one. I don’t normally read fantasy, but I’ve been looking for something new to try. I’ll need to get that tomorrow, then.”</p><p>“Because you need more books. You have like a dozen on your desk already,” I teased, giving him a playful wink, getting him to laugh and flush just a hint. He smiled down at his lap as I pulled up to the parking garage and handed over my badge for it to be examined. Ever since Connor, the security guards had at least upped their efforts. The lighting was still shit in here, but hey, at least progress was being made. </p><p>“I only have them here because I still haven’t bought another bookcase,” he told me as I took my badge back and drove inside. He’d been talking for like, almost a <i>month</i> now about getting one, and he still hadn’t?! At the look I threw him he defended, “carrying one home on the Metro isn’t easy, you know.”</p><p>As I pulled into my usual spot, I put us in park and then gestured to the car we were currently sitting in. At the puzzled blink Spencer gave me, I told him, “you have a friend with a hatchback and nothing to do on the weekends.”</p><p>Spencer was still shaking his head by the time I wrestled myself out of the car (I <i>really</i> needed to replace the stupid doorhandle…). He came around to my side and took my bag for me as I retrieved the rest of my crap from the backseat. When I turned to take it back, Spencer’s eyes swept over me and he gave a couple of quick blinks. </p><p>“What?” I asked quickly, looking down at myself, hands smoothing down my dress. I <i>knew</i> it’d been a bad idea to wear this! “Is this too much for work? It’s a little fancier than what I usually wear, and I probably shouldn’t have –“</p><p>“I – no. It’s just – it looks really nice. I mean, <i>you</i> look really nice,” he rushed out, stumbling over his words as his face tinted a few shades darker. My heart stumbled over a couple beats as I let my hands still, a shy smile curling over my lips. </p><p>As the silence drew on between us, I could see him starting to get uneasy. <i>Just say something already! Come on Aria, you know words – use them</i>! Crap. Okay. I could make a coherent sentence, right? </p><p>“Oh, wow, um, thanks – thank you. I… I just got it last week. It has pockets.”</p><p>Well, it was cohesive, but it didn’t mean it was <i>good</i>… I mentally smacked myself. Apparently almost eighteen years of education had come together to form what boiled down to <i>thanks it has pockets</i>?! </p><p>Ever-sweet soul that he was, Spencer at least looked pleased to hear about the pockets. As I took my bag back from him he told me, “it’s a very nice dress. It’s actually – um, lavender is my favorite color.”</p><p>“Is it really?” I asked him, a little more excited than I probably should’ve been about learning that little fact, and then realizing I’d worn his favorite color accidentally. He smiled and nodded as I told him excitedly, “it’s one of mine, too. Pink and yellow are my top two, though.”</p><p>“Did you know,” Spencer began as he led us inside, holding the door for me as we went. I was instantly lost to whatever he said next; those three words were some of my favorites he spoke. “The color yellow is hardly ever used in advertising, and even less-so in the interiors of transportation vehicles, because a number of studies have shown that yellow can cause dizziness, nausea, and can even tire out our eyes. It’s most notably avoided with the interior of airplanes because of this.”</p><p>As he always did after rattling off information, he spared a quick glance down at me. I knew he was looking for annoyance or exasperation, but all I could do was grin up at him. “I can’t believe I’ve liked that color all this time and never knew that.” As we paused to wait for the elevator I asked, “what facts do you have about lavender?”</p><p>Just like that, he launched off again. “Well, though many people think that lavender is just another shade of purple, it’s actually its own distinct family of colors. Originally there were only four shades recognized as of 1930, but by 1955 there were dozens listed that ranged from a pale, light purple to a deep pink-magenta hue.”</p><p>When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open he blinked in surprise, like he’d totally lost himself in his facts again. He instantly ducked his head and cleared his throat, like he was embarrassed for going off like that. Even now, all these months later, he still didn’t totally believe I liked hearing him recite information to me.  </p><p>And then, just like that, I saw my perfect opening. I’d been going back and forth about doing this for weeks and I’d kept putting it off saying I didn’t have the right moment… now, it was like the perfect storm. Everything was coming together to give me the <i>ideal</i> opportunity; I could practically hear my best friend cheering me on. </p><p><i>This is your chance. Don’t you DARE blow this! You’re a strong, brave, badass woman who’s gonna take charge and ask this man on a date</i>! </p><p>I was. She was right. This was my chance, I could do this, and I wasn’t putting this off any longer. <i>Penelope, give me strength...</i></p><p>“Well, you know I’ll need a run-down of pink facts now, too. Maybe tomorrow you can tell me all about it.”</p><p>My heart was hammering in my chest, only picking up speed when Spencer’s hand paused halfway to reaching to hit the button for our floor. He blinked, tipped his head, and then turned to me. “We won’t be here tomorrow, though. It’s Saturday.”</p><p>Okay, now or never. <i>Just take the damn shot, Aria</i>! “Well… what I meant is, if you’re not busy, we could maybe grab some lunch and talk about it tomorrow? Outside of work. And… we could go find you a bookshelf and then stop by that bookstore you told me about. I’m sure they’ll have <i>Eragon</i>.”</p><p>Spencer still looked somewhat confused and then, just a hint guilty. He shook his head and my heart dropped so fast I actually lost my breath. He didn’t want to go out with me? “I can’t ask you to give up a Saturday hauling furniture around for me –“</p><p>“Good thing you don’t need to ask, then,” I rushed, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “It’s not <i>giving up a Saturday</i>, Scruffy. I like hanging out with you.”</p><p>We paused at the elevator and Spencer focused on the coffee cup in his hands. Finally, he peeked at me through his lashes and asked almost nervously, “you really wouldn’t mind helping me get one home?”</p><p>“Of course not,” I promised him. He finally hit the button, and as the elevator started its trip he turned to me, slowly starting to piece together what I’d offered. A dazzling smile took over his face and now I <i>really</i> felt like collapsing. Was that a yes?!</p><p>“Yeah, that’d be really great,” he said; cue butterflies and lightheadedness. Just as I relaxed, though, he added quickly, “on one condition, though.”</p><p>“Oh?” I asked, nerves fluttering through me once again. My poor heart couldn’t take this kind of torture! Before I could work myself up to hyperventilating, his smile widened and he teased, </p><p>“You let <i>me</i> buy us lunch.”</p><p>“Okay, fair enough,” I agreed, laughing in relief. And before I could stop myself I told him, “it’s a date, then.”</p><p><i>Oh my GOD, what happened to playing it cool</i>?! I cried, instantly spiraling into panic as Spencer’s eyes widened at my words. I ducked my head as my cheeks skipped right over pink and went full-on cherry red. Great. Just <i>great</i>. I’d thrown out four stupid words and had just ruined a perfect weekend – hell, possibly the easy comfort between us. What the hell was wrong with me?! I had to fix this. Maybe I could lie and say it was just an expression, or maybe I could –</p><p>“Yeah, it is.”</p><p>His soft voice was almost drowned out by my internal screaming, and it took me a couple moments to register what he’d just said. When I looked up again and met his eyes, they crinkled with his shy smile and the butterflies that erupted inside me once again shoved all the uncertainty away. </p><p>He agreed it was a date. Sure, we’d been going to the coffee shop occasionally for breakfast and we’d had a few more study sessions, but we’d never called it a <i>date</i>. How could one little word get me so unbelievably happy? </p><p>Spencer and I grinned at one another until we reached our floor. I was so wound up from practically having just asked out my crush that the ding of the elevator made me jump. Tension broken, we both laughed as the doors slid open. Spencer put his arm out to keep them from closing, letting me go ahead of him. </p><p>I’d finally gotten up the courage to say something more to him, but the second I set foot off the elevator Morgan and Emily materialized in front of me and exclaimed in unison,</p><p>“<i>Good morning</i>!” </p><p>Thank god Spencer was behind me. He somehow managed to steady me as I scrambled back with a barely-stifled shriek. Hand to my chest, eyes wide and now struggling to catch my breath, I glared at the two of them and demanded, </p><p>“What the <i>hell</i> is wrong with you guys?!”</p><p>“So many things, we don’t have time to unpack it all,” JJ called as she passed by us, vanishing into the bullpen as quickly as she appeared.</p><p>As Spencer nudged me forward, I reluctantly shuffled further into the lobby, still scowling. Emily laughed and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Hotch just told us you passed your second assessment for the profiling classes. We wanted to congratulate you!”</p><p>“So what, you thought a heart attack was the way to go? <i>Good job! Here, have some complimentary arrhythmia</i>?” I snarked. Morgan, back beside Spencer, reached up and ruffled my hair. “Morgan <i>don’t</i> –“</p><p>“Ay, we just wanted to make sure you were awake and ready for the day, sunshine. Get that adrenaline pumpin’, you know?”</p><p>At my desk, I playfully wriggled out of Emily’s hold and dumped my things onto the desk. “Believe it or not, that’s what tea is for. Much less terrifying, and it doesn’t take years off my life.”</p><p>“Well that’s just not as fun,” Morgan argued. When he saw what I pulled out of my bag, he instantly surged forward and went to snag it. I smacked his hand and though he withdrew his reach, he still crowded up to me. “Where’s my breakfast sandwich?”</p><p>“I didn’t get <i>you</i> one,” I informed him. He pointedly looked across to Spencer, who had just taken a bite of his own. He chewed a little faster and ducked his head as I bit back a smile. </p><p>Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “I know <i>you</i> don’t eat those. That means I can have it –“ </p><p>“No, you can’t. This is Hotch’s,” I told him, hugging the bag to my chest defensively. He went to reach for it again and I grabbed my Tupperware, holding it out to him instead. “Here, you can have some of my breakfast.”</p><p>He took the container for all of two seconds before tossing it back onto my desk in disgust. “You really think I want <i>oatmeal</i>? That nasty snot-paste is for the elderly!”</p><p>“Hey! It’s good!” I defended as I started up the ramp to Hotch’s office. Morgan pulled a face and turned up his nose as he stalked back to his desk. </p><p>“Alright, <i>Grandma Gremlin</i>. Keep your senior snacks away from me.”</p><p>“So what, liking a healthy breakfast makes you old?” Rossi asked Morgan as he passed behind me towards his office, taking a pointed sip of his coffee. When Morgan made an ‘<i>of course it does</i>’ face, he motioned to himself. “<i>I</i> like oatmeal too, you know.”</p><p>“<i>You</i> liking oatmeal isn’t helping my case,” I pointed out, giving him a cheeky smile. Spencer snorted and almost choked on his sandwich as Rossi playfully smacked me upside the head. </p><p>“<i>Stai attentat, ragazzina,</i>” he warned, giving me his most dangerous face. I rolled my eyes and called back, </p><p>“<i>Oh, per favore. Le minacce vuote non funzionano su di me, vecchio masch.</i></p><p>Spencer snorted again, getting a bewildered double-take from Rossi; I knew he hadn’t expected the scruffy doctor to understand our exchange. I caught Spencer’s eye and gave him a swift wink before I turned and gave the closed office door a few quick knocks.  </p><p>There was a faint <i>come in</i>, and I scuttled inside instantly. Hotch didn’t even look up as I approached. He was currently hunched over his desk, sifting through the monstrous pile of paperwork he had sprawled in front of him. When I sat the bag with his sandwich next to his hand, though, he sat up in surprise.   </p><p>“Egg whites and bacon on a croissant,” I reported when he finally met my eyes. “I figured you hadn’t eaten yet, and according to Dr. Reid, eggs are the best breakfast to start a profiler’s day.”</p><p>It was no surprise to me to find out Hotch was practically allergic to being taken care of. Seriously, getting the man to sleep and ingest nutrients was harder than wrestling his three-year-old son into footie pajamas. <i>That</i> had been a challenge last weekend, but I’d won out. </p><p>I’d win here, too. Hotch putting aside his own wellbeing to focus on work was second nature, and I wasn’t letting him tear himself down more than he already had. I was Italian – it was in my nature to aggressively care for the people close to me. </p><p>Hotch looked ready to try and decline my offering. He’d done so almost every morning I’d brought him breakfast and he’d learned quickly I was just as stubborn as he was. He held my stare for a couple moments, and I lifted a brow at him, daring him to try and refuse the food.</p><p>Slowly, he reached over and took the bag. “Thank you. However, I believe I told you not to buy me –“</p><p>“What?” I called out, cupping a hand to my ear and even squinting for good measure. “Sorry, bad reception. I’m going through a tunnel. Super hard to hear you. You’ll just have to eat your breakfast without complaint, I guess.” </p><p>Hotch’s lips twitched up into a brief, playfully-annoyed smile as I giggled and scampered back down the ramp. I knew better than to draw attention to the care he begrudgingly accepted, so I’d leave him alone – for now – to hopefully eat the sandwich. </p><p>On my usual routine, I made my way towards the break room, but paused seeing my colorful best friend all but skipping my direction. </p><p>“There’s my sweet little sugar-free gumdrop!” she cooed, instantly wrapping me in a tight hug the moment I was within her reach. I laughed and hugged her back, swaying along with her before we pulled apart. “I’ve missed you!”</p><p>“I’ve missed you even more,” I assured, her, linking our arms and towing us towards the coffee machine. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”</p><p>Penelope dramatically draped herself over the counter at my side as I started on the drinks. She put an arm over her face and whined, “it’s been way too long since we did anything outside of work and we’re putting a stop to it immediately! You’re coming over tonight and we’ll be spending the entire weekend with <i>Ben &amp; Jerry’s</i> and a bottle of wine!”</p><p>“<i>Well</i>,” I started slowly, giving her an apologetic smile that was really more of a wince. She instantly pulled her arm back to look up at me in disbelief as I started, “I actually already have plans for Saturday –“</p><p>Penelope huffed and righted herself, shaking her head so hard her earrings jingled. “Absolutely not. What on earth could be more important than quality time with <i>me</i>?!”</p><p>After a quick glance around to make sure we were alone – and checking twice that Morgan was where I could see him and <i>not</i> sneaking up on me – I tugged my best friend closer and whispered, </p><p>“A date with Spencer.”</p><p>She paused completely, not even breathing as she processed what I’d just said. The gasp she drew was my only warning before she practically squealed, “what?! You’re going on a –“</p><p>“<i>Penelope</i>!” My hand slapped over her mouth and I looked around desperately. Thank god, Morgan and Emily weren’t looking. Penny gave me a sheepish, apologetic smile as I pulled my hand back reluctantly. “<i>Yes</i>, I’m – I’ve got a date with Spencer.”</p><p>She clapped her hands together excitedly, bouncing up and down and jingling her earrings again. Thankfully this time she lowered her voice as she gushed, “<i>ohmygosh</i>, Aria, that’s amazing! I mean, it only took you two like, what, almost six months? It’s about time!”</p><p>My face instantly started heating up and I ducked my head, trying to fight off the totally lovesick smile taking over. “I <i>know</i>. I honestly can’t believe I did it.”</p><p>“This isn’t just another breakfast meetup, is it?” she asked, instantly going for the juicy details.  I shook my head and gave her a quick recap of the conversation that had her giggling and jumping up and down again. “That’s seriously <i>adorable</i>! You are two of the most awkward little puppies when it comes to one another and I am <i>all</i> for it! Okay. New plan.”</p><p>“There’s a plan?” I asked in surprise; she instantly nodded. </p><p>“Of course there’s a plan. My best friend is going on a date with her dream guy! We <i>totally</i> have a plan. You’re coming over Friday night and getting pampered, and then we’ll get you all dolled up for Saturday –“</p><p>She cut off with a surprised <i>oh!</i> as I roped her into a tight hug. Seeing her so happy for me, and so instantly ready to help me make our bookstore date perfect… how was I lucky enough to have Penelope in my life?</p><p>“You’re the best, Penny,” I mumbled into her colorful sweater. She squeezed me tight and gave a swift kiss to the top of my head. </p><p>“Oh, I know I am,” she assured, getting a laugh out of me before she pulled back and ushered me to the counter again. “Now go finish your drink-serving and paperwork and get ready for the best weekend of your life!”</p><p>--</p><p>To say today had literally crawled by was an understatement. When I checked the clock <i>again</i>, I groaned seeing it was only a little past 3pm. How?! It felt like we were well into June by now, instead of just creeping into the late afternoon. </p><p>Focusing on the papers in front of me was borderline torture. Sure, I knew there was a lot of paperwork and forms that went along with the cases we worked, but <i>seriously</i>, there had to be a limit or something. </p><p>Plus, it didn’t help that I was sitting across from the most adorable man in the entire FBI. Arguably, in all of Virginia. Spencer, unsurprisingly, <i>loved</i> paperwork. While the rest of us typed up our reports, he was perfectly content with scrawling away with pencil and paper. </p><p>For what had to be the umpteenth time today, I got caught up watching him work. There was just something about the way he held his pencil, so delicately as he scribbled away, making it look small between his long fingers… and then, of course, sometimes he’d set the pencil down to study the report a little closer and pause to push his hair back from his face. </p><p>I’d fully accepted that I had an unhealthy obsession with watching the man tuck his hair behind his ears; it was a weakness, at this point. I’d never liked longer hair on a guy before, but – as he was with pretty much everything else – Spencer Reid was the exception. I hadn’t noticed I was staring until I realized he was staring back. </p><p>“Everything okay?” he asked, blinking over at me, genuine concern in his stare. Clearing my throat, I nodded and scrambled for an excuse. </p><p>“I just, um… I was, y’know…”</p><p>Once again, my ability to make a decent sentence had completely left me.</p><p>Which, of course, hadn’t gone unnoticed by the pair of nuisances across the aisle from us. I could <i>feel</i> Emily’s pleased smirk burning into me, probably wiggling brows at Morgan as they snickered to themselves. I quickly dropped my eyes to the paper and rushed out, “I’m good. Just zoned out, I’m sorry.”</p><p>Peeking up through my lashes, I caught the tail end of a bashful smile playing on his lips as Spencer bent over his papers once again. As I desperately tried to just get myself to finish a <i>few</i> more sentences, Hotch’s door opened for the first time all afternoon. </p><p>I leaned back, ready to badger him about taking a lunch break, but paused seeing the state he was in. Jacket on, go-bag on his shoulder, file in hand. Crap.  </p><p>“Case?” I sighed. At the word we all dreaded hearing on a Friday afternoon, Rossi poked his head out from his own office. The others around me sat up and turned to Hotch as he held up the file and gave a terse nod.</p><p>“Two teenagers were abducted in California last night, and police have just found a body buried in a fresh grave. They need our help. I’ve already got Garcia coordinating with the officers on scene, and JJ’s getting the plane ready. Wheels up in thirty.”</p><p>With that, he set off down the ramp, heading straight for the jet. Instantly, the rest of us scrambled to follow suit. Disappointment sunk in my stomach as I started to gather my things. I wasn’t upset with the case, of course. Helping people was what I signed up for, what I loved doing. It just seemed like the moment any of us made plans, the universe had to intervene.  </p><p>As I reluctantly shouldered my go-bag, I stood and caught Spencer’s eye again. He looked just as put out as I did, and we both offered the other one an understanding smile. </p><p>Our date was gonna have to wait. </p><p>--</p><p>It was just past 9pm by the time we touched down in California. The moment we were off the plane, we were rushed into the waiting SUV’s and taken straight to the scene. The seven of us gathered as soon as we parked, and instantly one of the detectives came jogging up to us. </p><p>“Have you I.D.’d the body?” Hotch asked, leading us after the detective as he turned and rushed back the way he’d just come. </p><p>“Well, it’s a girl. We’re assuming it’s one of the two who are missing, but we can’t be sure of that just yet,” he reported, instantly doubling the tension of our group. It taken us just about four hours to get here; this was all they’d been able to find out so far? </p><p>“Did you draw up a list of those involved in the search?” Morgan asked hopefully. Thankfully, this time, the detective had a little more to offer us. He pulled a folded paper from his suit jacket and passed it back to Morgan as he explained, </p><p>“We did. You’re gonna find the parents of the girls on that list, too.”</p><p>Alarm spiked through me and I asked quickly, “oh no. Please tell me they didn’t discover the body.”</p><p>“No,” he assured; all of us relaxed just a bit. He held up the caution tape and let us pass under as he continued, “as soon as our dogs caught her scent, we kept them away from the scene.”</p><p>“You said she’d been missing 18 hours?” Spencer asked as we gathered at the edge of the ravine. All of us cautiously leaned over the edge to look down at the young girl lying at the bottom. She was on her back, twisted around like she’d just been tossed carelessly down below.</p><p>Now it was clear why they couldn’t go much further with the identification. Her face <i>and</i> her hands had been… well, <i>destroyed</i>, for lack of a better word. Which, unfortunately, meant a quick I.D. wouldn’t be possible. </p><p>“That’s correct. We found the body five hours ago, right before we called you,” the detective told us, and instantly JJ turned to look up at him in concern. </p><p>“If they were helping with the search, does that mean the parents have been here all this time, waiting to see which girl it is?”</p><p>The detective sighed and ran a hand over his hair, looking frazzled and at the end of his rope. Judging by the scene around us, it had to have been a pretty long day for him. “Yeah, and I’m running out of excuses.”</p><p>“I’ll go talk to them,” she offered him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she turned to head back towards the crowd that had gathered behind us. Immediately I looked up to Hotch, silently asking if I could help her.</p><p>My last round of profiling classes focused on conducting interviews and speaking with witnesses, victims, and suspects. According to Hotch, I was doing well with the victims, but he wanted me to start branching out more. </p><p>So, as soon as I got his nod of approval I hurried after JJ and said, “I’ll go with you.”</p><p>She let me reach her side, and as we made for the group of people gathered at the <i>caution</i> tape, she murmured, “we want to see what they can tell us, and we’ll assure we’re here to help, but we can’t disclose anything about what’s been found so far.”</p><p>“So don’t mention the state of the body. Just give vague, non-committal answers and gloss over it for now?” I guessed, and she gave a quick nod. It wasn’t hard to pick out the parents from the crowd of onlookers. A man and a woman were huddled together, clinging to one another, perking up when they saw us approaching. </p><p>A third man, who’d been a little further away, scooted closer to them, straightening up and instantly asking us, “you’re with the FBI?”</p><p>“Yes, sir. I’m Jennifer Jareau, and this is Aria DiMaggio. We wanted to speak with you to see –“</p><p>“To see what happened before they disappeared,” the man finished for her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. JJ gave a swift nod; he tipped his chin up, eyeing the both of us. “I’m Jack Vaughn, Lindsey’s dad. This is Bruce and Lori Owen, Katie’s parents. What’ve you got so far?”</p><p>Okay, my time to shine. I’d been getting better at speaking up and hell, if I could ask Spencer on a date, I could handle this. Right?</p><p>“Currently, we’re working with the local police to find out all we can. For the moment, though, it’d really help if you could tell us what happened just before the girls went missing.”</p><p>JJ gave a subtle nod to assure I’d said the right thing, even though Mr. Vaughn didn’t look too pleased with my dodgy answer. Thankfully, the Owen’s were eager to help us out however they could.</p><p>“Bruce and I were out for dinner,” Mrs. Owen began with a sniff. Her husband wrapped his arm around her and she took a shaky breath. “Jack dropped off the girls at the movie theater…”</p><p>As I went to encourage her to keep going, Mr. Vaughn interjected, “I’d arranged to pick ‘em up, but they never came out. I went inside, but they weren’t there. An usher told me he saw ‘em leave halfway through.”</p><p>“Did he have any idea of where they were going?” JJ probed, and Mr. Vaughn shrugged, scowl deepening on his face. </p><p>“Said they were goin’ outside for a cigarette.”</p><p>There was a watery sniff from Mrs. Owen as she whispered, “we… we didn’t even know Katie was smoking.”</p><p>“That’s not your fault. A lot of teenagers are pretty skilled at keeping rebellious things like that hidden,” I told her softly. When her tearful eyes flickered to me, I gave a small smile and added, “It doesn’t make you any less of a caring, diligent parent.”</p><p>She sniffed again, wiping some tears off her cheek as she gave a quick nod. JJ gave her a reassuring smile as well before she turned back to Mr. Vaughn and asked, “did the usher say if they came back inside?”</p><p>“No. He didn’t see ‘em again –”</p><p>“Look. We’ve been here all day standing around and answering questions,” Mr. Owen snapped, stepping up and trying to look past JJ and I to where the rest of the team was gathered. His wife reached out and wrapped her arms around one of his to pull him back. The brief, burning frustration died out at her touch and he asked wearily, “why can’t you guys just let us know who you found? <i>Please</i>? We just wanna know.”</p><p>“Cause <i>they</i> don’t know who it is.” Mr. Vaughn said slowly, sharp eyes flicked between JJ and I as he challenged, “do you?”</p><p>Before either of us could even try to answer, Mrs. Owen asked in alarm, “what? Why don’t they – what did they do to her?!”</p><p>JJ held up her hands to try and sooth her as she said quickly, “until we know for sure who it is and what happened, we can’t –“</p><p>“By ‘we’, you mean the FBI… right?” a new, condescending voice cut in. A tall, burly man stepped up beside Mr. Vaughn, crossing his arms as he stared down his nose at us. </p><p>“Yes,” I told him curtly, straightening up a hint to match his challenge. Granted, my five-foot self wasn’t as intimidating as I was hoping I’d be, but I could at least pretend like I was. Fake it till I make it, right? “We’re only here to help the police find out who did this, sir.”</p><p>“Well hun, it’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Mr. Vaughn scoffed, giving me a last disgruntled once-over before he turned and stalked away. Mr. and Mrs. Owen followed him instantly, but the newest man didn’t budge. JJ subtly rested her hand on my arm, telling me to keep alert. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one that didn’t like the vibes he gave off.  </p><p>“I’m Pat Mannan, Jack’s friend,” he introduced. If he noticed our wariness, he didn’t seem to care. “You’ll have to excuse him. His wife passed away a few years ago. Lindsey’s all that he has.”</p><p>“We understand,” JJ promised. Just past Mr. Mannan’s arm, I caught Mr. Vaughn pulling a bottle from his pocket. He quickly dumped a couple of pills into his hand and tipped his head back to swallow them fast, taking a deep breath. </p><p>A brief glance to JJ confirmed she’d seen that too. The hand on my arm tugged me back and she offered, “Aria, go fill Hotch in really quick. I’m gonna go ask the Owen’s a few more questions.”</p><p>“Okay. I’ll send Morgan over to help,” I told her, more for Mr. Mannan’s benefit than hers. My subtle way of saying <i>she’s not being left alone with you, so don’t try anything.</i> The quirked smile JJ gave assured she understood exactly what I was doing. </p><p>I kept my eye on her the whole way over to the others, only looking away to reach out and tug on Morgan’s sleeve. He glanced back and I jerked my head in her direction. “Can you go help JJ talk with the parents? She wants me to touch base with Hotch but I don’t want her alone.”</p><p>Hotch looked over when he heard his name, and his brows drew together in concern at what I’d said. He and Morgan looked back past me, both instantly zoning in on Mr. Mannan. Morgan nodded and started towards her, assuring me, “you got it, sunshine.”</p><p>Hotch turned to me and asked quietly, “is everything alright?”</p><p>“Mostly,” I told him, turning to keep my eye on JJ. Only once Morgan was at her side did I look back to Hotch. “The Owen’s are distressed but seem interested in helping. Mr. Vaughn’s a little combative. Between his pill-popping and suspicious <i>friend</i>, something isn’t sitting right with them.”</p><p>At my words, Hotch’s frown got impossibly darker. He nodded towards the body, where Spencer and Emily were crouched to study it. “We can’t rule out the family. Even if done harmlessly, the parents inserted themselves into the investigation. What does the mutilation of identifying features on a victim usually indicate?”</p><p>“It could mean she knew the attacker,” I reported instantly, shiver running up my spine as the realization settled over me. “The UnSub’s trying to delay us making a connection between them and the victim. If that’s the case, the likelihood of it being a family member is pretty significant.”</p><p>The look on Hotch’s face matched exactly how I felt. Now, I.D.’ing the girl was even more important. If we knew which girl had been killed, it could help us narrow down which parent it could possibly be. If it was Lindsey, we’d need to look at the Owen’s first. But, if it was Katie…</p><p>Just as I thought his name, Mr. Vaughn stepped into my sight. He was up on the ridge above the ravine, looking down at the scene. When he met my gaze, he tipped his head to the side, jaw tensing as his hands slipped into his pockets. He was issuing a silent challenge to us: <i>give me an answer before I take this into my own hands.</i></p><p>One thing was certain: no matter which girl this ended up being, there was no way we were ruling him out just yet.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <i>“Please, please no. Please, stop it. Stop it!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Don’t fight them – don’t!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Oh please, god, stop!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Don’t show them you’re scared –“</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Get off me! Please help me! Please, god, stop it!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Don’t fight it!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Please, please! Daddy, daddy, help me please –“</i>
</p><p>The recording cut off and Penelope took a shaky breath. The rest of us gathered around the laptop, processing the voicemail she’d just played for us. She’d warned it was hard to listen to, but hearing a young girl begging for her dad as she was being killed…</p><p>“It’s fifty-three seconds, and then it goes dead,” she told us softly. Emily let out a heavy breath, her gaze going past us to the parents gathered with JJ. </p><p>“You were right, Reid. Cause of death was strangulation,” she said after a couple moments, pulling the rest of us out of the morbid thoughts hanging over us. Morgan scrubbed a hand down his face before turning to Hotch. </p><p>“What d’you wanna do?”</p><p>“Do? There’s nothing else <i>to</i> do,” Rossi cut in before Hotch could answer. He shrugged and said matter-of-factly, “the parents can I.D. the voice.”</p><p>“Are you serious?!”</p><p>To everyone’s surprise, Emily had beat me to that alarmed outburst. Rossi gave her a heavy look as Penelope added instantly, </p><p>“No. No, sir, they can never hear this –”</p><p>“It’ll be the fastest way to figure out who we’re looking for,” Rossi argued, and instantly Emily looked to me.</p><p>I knew she expected me to jump in and argue with her and Penny, but… Rossi was right. It wasn’t that he was being callous, he was just a practical, straightforward man. There was no saving the girl that had been found tonight, but the other girl was still alive. She needed us, and he was focused on saving her. </p><p>Still, though… having them listen to that? I looked back to Hotch – who was pacing slowly behind us – and piped up, “there’s gotta be another way, right? I mean, having to hear one of their daughters dying…”</p><p>“We can’t ask them to do that. I mean, what about DNA?” the detective threw out. “Or – or dental records?”</p><p>Spencer and his boundless knowledge, unfortunately, had an answer for that. He and I were both leaning back against the wall beside the evidence board, and he’d been studying the notes we’d pinned up. At the question, he shook his head and explained, </p><p>“Testing DNA takes upwards of eight weeks. We can look at the dental records, but even with knowing who to compare them to it could take a few days for accurate results.”</p><p>All of us fell quiet, glancing between one another, none of us wanting to admit what our most logical option was. Finally, Hotch paused at my side and asked quietly, </p><p>“Aria, can you go grab JJ and the parents?” </p><p>The others gave me supporting nods as I took a breath and skirted around the desk. As soon as they saw me approaching, Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Mannan instantly moved to meet me. </p><p>“What is it, you got an I.D. for us?” Mr. Mannan asked instantly. Before I could even reply, Mr. Vaughn huffed and shook his head. </p><p>“No, she doesn’t.”</p><p>I bit back my irritation. He was just worried for his daughter, I couldn’t fault him for how he was acting. “No, sir. We don’t. We have a decision to make and we’d like input from all of you on what you’d like to do.”</p><p>“We’ll help however we can,” Mr. Owen promised. <i>You might not feel that way in a few minutes,</i> I sighed to myself as I gave him a quick nod and led them back to where the team was gathered. </p><p>Hotch instantly stepped up to explain the situation as I took my spot at Spencer’s side again. I glanced up at him as I did so and he quirked a small, reassuring smile at me. As they listened to what our options were for I.D.’ing the body, the Owen’s shared a look with Mr. Vaughn. The thought of having to listen to the voicemail was clearly something they didn’t want to do. </p><p>Mrs. Owen was the first one to speak, asking softly, “you… you said there are options for DNA testing?”</p><p>“There are,” Hotch said, but added immediately, “my feeling is, by the time we got the results back, it would be too late to save whoever is still missing.”</p><p>“What should we do?” Mr. Owen asked, looking around our group, praying one of us could give him the right answer. His eyes fell to me and, though maybe it wasn’t my place to reply, I said softly, </p><p>“It’s up to you. Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it.”</p><p>Hotch and the others nodded in support of what I’d said. Mr. Vaughn’s scrutinizing gaze landed on me and he asked lowly, </p><p>“What exactly is on this message that you’re so worried about playin’ for us?”</p><p>Hotch stepped forward, just a hint in front of me, and Mr. Vaughn lifted his gaze to him as he said, “it’s the last moments of one of your daughters’ lives.”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Mrs. Owen sobbed, turning and clinging to her husband as she cried. Mr. Owen held her tight as he choked out roughly, </p><p>“Is… what else can we do? If we wanted to do the DNA testing…”</p><p>“If you choose to wait you can make a public appeal to the media,” JJ began, and it was Mr. Mannan that scoffed this time. He shook his head as his sharp gaze locked onto JJ. </p><p>“Live appeal… I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.”</p><p>“Why not?” Hotch asked, again pulling the scrutinizing glares onto him instead of the rest of us. Mr. Mannan straightened up a bit to meet his gaze as he said smartly, </p><p>“Because I know they’re set up to see the reaction of the parent. You’re checking for signs of guilt.”</p><p>Hotch tensed and the rest of braced as Mrs. Owen pulled back from her husband to look around as us. She glanced at Mr. Mannan, and then up at Hotch, completely taken aback as she whispered,</p><p>“Is – is that true?”</p><p>“In some cases,” Hotch said. Before he could explain further, Mrs. Owen shook her head and pulled away from her husband. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Bruce, I can’t do this. I need to –“ she cut off as she choked back a sob, rushing away from us across the station. JJ was after her a heartbeat later, making sure she’d be alright. As the silence settled around us, Mr. Owen shared a look with Mr. Vaughn, and both men nodded. </p><p>They were going to listen. </p><p>--</p><p>The sobs of Mr. and Mrs. Owen still echoed around the station. Emily and JJ had taken them outside for air, but their grief hung over us as we all tried to piece together what we could. We’d gathered around Hotch as he pressed us for anything we could offer up. </p><p>“What they did to Katie took a long time,” Rossi began, folding his arms over his chest and bringing a hand up to rest his chin on. “It was very violent, and we know Katie screamed. Yet, no calls or complaints from neighbors.”</p><p>The detective shook his head, sighing heavily as he asked, “why not? You hear a kid screaming for help and you don’t bother to call?”</p><p>“Well, there might not have <i>been</i> any neighbors,” I piped up, looking around at the others as I put out what was hopefully a helpful thought. “The UnSub could’ve held the girls somewhere isolated, so he didn’t have to worry about them making noise.”</p><p>The detective made a noise of disagreement. “That seems unlikely, though. I mean, now we’re talking about this guy somehow grabbing two girls from a theater, bringing them to one location, and then dumping them in another. Wouldn’t it make more sense to assume the neighbors hadn’t been concerned, thinking it was just kids messing around or something?”</p><p>I’d felt confident with my thought, but when Rossi and Morgan nodded along with the detective I deflated just a hint. Lately, it seemed like right when I thought I was starting to get the hang of analyzing behavior, I always ended up miles away from the rest of the team –</p><p>“No, I think Aria’s right.” Spencer’s firm statement caught me off guard and I tipped my head to look up at him, surprised to hear him defending me. I wasn’t the only one. The detective, Rossi, and Morgan all looked to him in question and he turned on his heel, leading us into the conference room. He walked up to the board he’d been doing his geographical profiling on and tapped a mark he’d made. </p><p>“The abduction site here is nine miles north of the dump site on the edge of town,” he explained, sliding his finger over the map and then tapping another mark. “With how risky it was to take the girls from the theater and then leave Katie in such an open, frequented area, both of these indicate a comfort zone. That means the kill site would be just about here.”</p><p>His finger slid to an area on the far edge of town, with markings for houses and businesses few and far between. A pretty secluded area, perfect for holding screaming teenage girls without raising suspicion. </p><p>Holy shit, I’d been right! Spencer caught the look of elated surprise on my face and gave me a proud smile, just like when I got my physics questions right. Excitement bubbled through me, growing even warmer at the pleased nod Hotch gave me. </p><p>“That’s still a pretty wide area,” the detective began, but now it was Rossi who jumped on the <i>support Aria</i> train. </p><p>“True, but we can set up a grid search now. We’ll narrow it down to wooded areas, industrial sites, abandoned houses. A heavy police presence is critical right now, and that’s what we’ll be putting out.”</p><p>The detective finally looked like he was getting on board with us, and I couldn’t hold back my own thrilled smile. It felt pretty damn good to hit the nail on the head for once! Hotch glanced around at us and delegated, “for tonight, we’ll work on going over the evidence we have so far. JJ and Prentiss are taking the parents home to let them rest. I want to give them time to process what’s happened.”</p><p>“I’ll go get the files together,” the detective announced, slipping out of the conference room as Hotch looked to the rest of us. </p><p>“Morgan, in the morning, you and I will go to the abduction site, talk with the usher, and see what we can dig up. Rossi, I want you, Reid, and Aria to search Jack Vaughn’s house.” As we nodded, Hotch looked between the three of us. His eyes lingered on me for a heartbeat before he added, “from the interactions we’ve seen, it’s safe to assume he’ll be defensive and possibly hostile with you there, so be vigilant and watch out for each other.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, Hotch. Mr. Vaughn and his <i>friend</i> might act tough, but we’ve got a mob boss on our side,” I assured. As Rossi made a noise of indignation, Hotch’s lips twitched up for <i>just</i> a heartbeat. </p><p>“Use those connections to your advantage.”</p><p>Morgan choked back a laugh as Spencer pressed his lips together, trying not to smile as Rossi groaned and ran a hand down his face. “<i>Don’t</i> encourage the kid.”</p><p>While Morgan, Rossi, and Spencer followed the detective to go grab the files and evidence, I reached out and caught Hotch’s arm, tugging him to a stop. He looked down at me in concern, but when he saw the smile on my face he hesitated.  </p><p>“How’re you doing?” I asked; his brows instantly went up. He seemed genuinely amused <i>I</i> was checking in on <i>him</i>. </p><p>“Doesn’t this conversation usually go the other way around?” he began, now getting a raised brow from <i>me</i> as I fought my own smile. “What?”</p><p>“Don’t change the subject to avoid answering me,” I warned, and got a soft chuckle as he shook his head. “Really. Are you doing okay?”</p><p>He pressed his lips together as he studied me, slowly piecing together an answer. Finally, he gave a slow now. “I’m alright. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“I’m just concerned because you haven’t eaten anything since Quantico, and I know once you dive into the files you won’t surface again until sunrise.”</p><p>The amused smile that had been playing on his lips fell away, replaced with a look I couldn’t quite place. He looked… well, honestly, he looked completely floored that I’d been paying attention to his terrible eating habits. </p><p>When he didn’t answer me, I added a little softer, “I just worry, that’s all. I know you’re not diabetic, but it’s not good for you to go so long without something more than dark roast. <i>Especially</i> if you don’t plan on sleeping tonight.”</p><p>A softness settled in his dark gaze and all the defenses he kept up slipped down for just a moment. With all that was going on with Haley, he hadn’t seen Jack in a week; not since I’d come by last Friday for dinner. With losing her too, being away from his son hurt him more than he wanted to admit, and I knew he’d been throwing himself into his work to avoid the sadness seeping into him day by day. </p><p>I wasn’t gonna let him bury himself, and I knew he saw that in the look I gave him then. He gave me an understanding nod and said simply, “I’ll go order all of us some dinner.” </p><p>“Whatever you go with, I want chicken nuggets,” I told him as I backed out after the rest of the team, leaving it at that. It was Hotch’s furtive way of saying <i>thank you</i>, and my equally-subtle way of promising I’d make sure he’d be finishing whatever food he ordered for himself. </p><p>--</p><p>Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Mannan hadn’t left us alone all morning. They’d followed right behind the three of us as we swept through the living room and the kitchen, and now they were both crowded in the doorway of Lindsey’s room, watching us dig through the young girl’s things. </p><p>Rossi had slipped out to call Hotch for an update and currently Spencer was sifting through one of her side tables. I’d been busy going through the surprisingly-bare desk up against the window. I’d already swept the nearly-empty bookshelf, and now I couldn’t keep my curiosity to myself.</p><p>“What happened to Lindsey’s mother?” I asked, looking back at Mr. Vaughn; he wasn’t the one who answered. </p><p>“Does it matter?” Mr. Mannan threw back, lifting a brow at me as I turned to face them completely. Man, this guy <i>really</i> didn’t like me. I had to admit, it was just a little satisfying to get under his skin as effortlessly as I did.</p><p>“It does to Lindsey,” I said simply, turning and strolling back across the room, running a hand along the flowered quilt on the bed. The guy looked ready to snark at me again, but he didn’t get the chance. </p><p>The handsome doctor I came up beside got to his feet and instantly came to my defense. “It’s called victimology. It helps us understand more about Lindsey. How she carries herself, how she interacts socially with others –“</p><p>“She’s just like any other 15-year-old girl,” Mr. Vaughn cut in dismissively. Though Spencer went quiet, now it was my turn to step up and defend, </p><p>“No, she’s not. I <i>was</i> one, and I can tell you right now, this isn’t the room of a teenager.”</p><p>He scoffed at me and shook his head, folding his arms over his chest. “No offense, hun, but my daughter isn’t anythin’ like you. Not every girl is the same –“</p><p>Unbothered at his underhanded comment, I looked back to him and explained, “true, everyone is different, but there are traits and characteristics that most everyone follows, teenager or not. Like, how everything in our house is an externalization of ourselves.”</p><p>“And what exactly is Lindsey <i>externalizing</i>, huh?” he challenged. I caught the smile Spencer quickly smothered; as the king of fact-dumps, he knew I was on the verge of one. </p><p>“Well, not much, to tell you the truth,” I started with a sassy shrug of shoulders. Okay, that’d had a little more attitude than I meant, but I’d roll with it. “For starters, this room isn’t anything of what you’d expect of a teenage girl. The bed’s made up with a generic, borderline-plain blanket and cream-colored sheets. There aren’t even any extra pillows or stuffed animals.”</p><p>“She ain’t a flashy kid,” Mr. Vaughn argued. His eyes swept over me, making a silent jab at my outfit that I decidedly ignored. “Just because she has toned-down bedding –“</p><p>“The walls are just as plain and boring as the bed. The colors are muted and there aren’t any posters of her favorite bands or movies. No framed pictures, keepsakes, awards, or <i>any</i> type of decoration. The desk drawers are totally empty, and all she has lying out is her homework. She’s got nothing <i>personal</i>. On the surface, it looks like Lindsey keeps herself hidden. She’s quiet, reserved, and doesn’t seem to want to open up to anyone.”</p><p>“Except Katie,” Spencer finished, sharing a quick, supportive glance at me before he delved back into his searching. Mr. Vaughn was staring me down, but it was Mr. Mannan that again replied for him.</p><p>“All that from this room, huh?” he laughed, just a hint shy of mocking me. I looked around the room, and then met his gaze and challenged,</p><p>“Am I wrong?” </p><p>The silence between us was deafening, so when my ringtone went off, I had no idea how I managed to keep from jumping. <i>That</i> would’ve really killed the little bit of credit I’d gathered for myself. </p><p>After a quick glance at the caller ID, I flipped my phone open and answered, “hey, Penny. What’s up?” </p><p>“Hi, my sweet summer flower,” she said quickly, instantly putting me on guard. “I’ve got some interesting things for you, and I need you do something for me. Can you get yourself away from the dad and his friend?”</p><p>“Yep,” I said simply, not wanting to say anything that might get Mr. Vaughn or Mr. Mannan suspicious of the call. I looked back and caught Spencer’s eye, and when he nodded to assure he’d be alright on his own, I slipped past the men in the doorway. Thankfully, it seemed they were too interested in Spencer rifling through Lindsey’s things to pay me any attention. </p><p>Down the hall, now that we had a bit of privacy, I asked her quietly, “okay. What’s up?”</p><p>“Does Lindsey have a computer?” she whispered back, like she was being sneaky right next to me. </p><p>Biting back a smile, I made for the living room as I reported, “there’s just one we’ve come across, in the living room. I’d assume it’s for the both of them. What do you need?”</p><p>Swift, determined clicks of the keyboard filled the phone for a couple heartbeats before she asked hopefully, “think you can get me the IP from it? I have a theory I need you to help me confirm.”</p><p>“I’m booting it up now. Give me a couple minutes,” I told her, settling in the desk chair and switching it on. “I take it you found something when you were digging into Katie’s life?”</p><p>“<i>Oh-ho-ho</i>, did I ever. Listen to this. I found a blog Katie had online, right? She talked a lot about Lindsey and boy, she did <i>not</i> like Lindsey’s dad,” she gushed to me; that made two of us, at least. “Said she was treated like a wife, not a daughter, and calls him a creep more than she calls him Mr. Vaughn, you know? So I dug, of course.</p><p>“As I’d expect you to,” I commented, doing all I could to will the old desktop to load up faster. </p><p>“I’m glad I did. Okay, follow along. Lindsey and Jack moved to Chula Vista six years ago. Up until she was nine, Katie said that Lindsey told her they lived in Maine. Jack owned a fishing boat with his three brothers, mom stayed at home. Then, tragedy struck. Fish stock went down, dad had to sell the boat, the family fell apart, and amidst the chaos, mom died in a car accident.”</p><p>For a few moments I was stunned, going over what she’d just said to make sure I’d heard that correctly. Finally, I managed out an incredulous, “that – that’s essentially the plot to <i>The Emerald Sea of Dreams</i>. I love that book. I read it in high school. Isn’t the main character’s name –“</p><p>“Lindsey. Yep.”</p><p>“Lindsey’s been friends with Katie since she moved to Chula Vista,” I realized, leaning back in the chair, frown coming over my face. “If she’s been running that story all this time, how would her dad not know about it?” </p><p>“He’d have to, right? He’d <i>have</i> to at this point. Like, this guy is super close to his daughter, to the point where I’m pretty sure he knows more about his kid than <i>she</i> does about herself. How would he <i>not</i> know?” Well, she wasn’t wrong. “So, I was thinking… if he knew Lindsey was lying about who she was to Katie – which, realistically, he’d have to at this point – why wouldn’t he say anything about it to Katie? Or to us, at the very least?”</p><p>“You ask some wonderful questions, Penny G, and I’m hoping we can find some answers,” I sighed, just as lost as she was. I had my own theories of course, but I was hitting the same problem: I didn’t have a way to back them up. If anyone could dig up what I needed, though, it was her. “I’ve got that IP address for you.”</p><p>As soon as I read the numbers off to her, Penelope launched off into a flurry of typing. After a couple of moments, she paused and <i>ooh</i>’d; I sat up a bit more. “What’d you find?”</p><p>“It’s what I <i>didn’t</i> find. Get this. The computer’s set to automatically clear the web browser history and wipe the temp file on a daily basis. And, I can’t even dig for anything. It looks like he’s using a gray box proxy server. It makes tracking his internet history impossible –“</p><p>The floorboards behind me creaked and I whipped around, staring up in surprise at Mr. Vaughn. He leaned against the wall and asked slowly, “can I help you?”</p><p>“Oh, um, no, I’m fine,” I said, hanging up and standing quickly, subtly closing out of the windows I’d opened up. “I was just checking to see if Lindsey had contacted anyone online. It’s pretty common for predators to reach out to vulnerable kids on the internet and –“</p><p>“Is that right?” he asked me, taking a step closer. Before I could answer, Mr. Mannan had come up beside him. Panic sparked in my chest and my fingers began to tangle into my skirt. I forced them still and instead, I fell back on the thing that usually calmed me down: Spencer’s fact-rambling. </p><p>“Yeah, actually, it’s pretty interesting. Almost half of today’s predators find their victims through internet chatrooms and social media websites –“</p><p>“Lindsey doesn’t like computers,” Mr. Vaughn cut in, silencing me briefly. I quickly cleared my throat and bobbed my head, fingers starting to fidget nervously again. <i>Calm, Aria. Calm. Keep it casual. You got this.</i></p><p>“Oh? Well, sounds like we’re all good on this end,” I dismissed with a quick smile, instantly scurrying forward and slipping past the men in front of me once again. A hand caught my upper arm and pulled me to a sharp stop. </p><p>I stumbled back into Mr. Mannan, and his grip tightened when I tried to shrug him off. The panic in my chest crackled again as I started, “what are you –“</p><p>“I don’t think that’s what you were doing, Miss DiMaggio,” he pressed, leaning a little closer. Instantly I leaned back, trying to distance us, and suddenly Mr. Vaughn was behind me to box me in. “What exactly were you –” </p><p>“Is there a problem?” Spencer cut in, stepping up to my side; his calm voice was a stark contrast to the frown on his face. When neither man answered him, he reached between us and rested his hand just above Mr. Mannan’s as he said curtly, “excuse us.”</p><p>His hand slid down firmly, pushing Mr. Mannan’s off and settling in its place as he pulled me to his side. In one smooth motion he slid his hand across my back to wrap his arm around me, turning us away. If I wasn’t completely on edge, I would’ve been swooning. </p><p>When we heard the men starting after us, Spencer instantly let go and turned to plant himself in front of me. Before they could come any closer, though, Rossi came strolling in from the kitchen. He stopped between Spencer and the other men, eyeing them as he started slowly, </p><p>“If you ask me, this doesn’t look much like a home.” </p><p>“Alright, what’s goin’ on here?” Mr. Mannan demanded, staring Rossi down before his eyes flicked over to us. Spencer slipped his hands into his pockets and straightened up to his full height, blocking me just a bit more from his view. </p><p>Alright, I <i>did</i> swoon a little this time.</p><p>“You tell me,” Rossi continued. “You’ve got a state-of-the-art security system, but have the bare minimum of furniture, all which looks rented.”</p><p>Neither man spoke, so Spencer added, “the walls are bare of any real art. There aren’t any family photos, personal trinkets, or any personal touches throughout the entire home.”</p><p>“You’ve got programs wiping your computer history daily, and you’re hiding all your activity behind a proxy server,” I finished for them. The room fell into a heavy silence for just a couple moments before Mr. Mannan bit out a laugh.</p><p>“Last I checked, none of that’s illegal. What are you guys tryin’ to imply here?”</p><p>Rossi took a step closer; though he looked calm, the tone of his voice said otherwise. “In the recording, Katie said what you’d expect of <i>anyone</i> who was about to die. She begged for her life. But Lindsey? She did the opposite.”</p><p>“What does that matter, huh?” Mr. Vaughn growled, stepping up to us as well now. This was my area of expertise, and this was <i>my</i> assumption. After all, I’d brought it up to Spencer and Rossi on the way over, and it’s what we’d been looking to verify. Now it was time to reveal what I’d been worried about.</p><p>I stepped up to Spencer’s side, and both men stared me down as I explained as gently as I could, “look. Lindsey’s emotional response and the words she chose to say in a situation as violent as the one she faced strongly suggests that she was either coached, or –“ </p><p>The next words caught in my throat, but Mr. Vaughn seemed to know where I was going. His eyes flashed dangerously as he demanded,  </p><p>“Or <i>what</i>?”</p><p>“Or… she’s experienced sexual abuse before –“</p><p>“<i>What did you just fuckin’ say</i>?!” he snarled, surging forward. Spencer’s arm shot out in front of me to push me back behind him as Rossi cut off Mr. Vaughn’s path. Mr. Mannan turned and grabbed Mr. Vaughn, shouldering him back towards the living room, rushing out, </p><p>“Hey Jack, alright, I know! Just take it easy –“</p><p>Mr. Vaughn clawed furiously at the man holding him back, trying to get past him to me. “<i>No! Let me go</i> –“</p><p>As the two of them struggled, the handle of a gun emerged from the waistband of Mr. Mannan’s pants, just inches from Mr. Vaughn’s hand. </p><p>“Gun! <i>He’s got a gun</i>!” Rossi shouted, and the room exploded into chaos.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday!</p><p>Thank you guys for all the sweet wishes and kind words. You made this week so much more bearable! I really can't say enough how much I love and appreciate each and every one of you. </p><p>I told you I'd make up for the lack of Spencer last chapter, and I hope this met your expectations! This is one of my favorite S3 episodes and I've been so excited to write these next few chapters. Do you like this episode too? What do you think about Aria finally asking Spencer out!? Do we like Aria standing up to Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Mannan? And what about Spencer coming to Aria's defense? I wanna hear your thoughts!</p><p>Are you celebrating a holiday this month? Have you already? I'd love to hear what you celebrate/observe, what your favorite traditions are, or even just something you've enjoyed this season! Despite COVID and all the chaos of this year, I hope you guys are enjoying the holidays and I wish you guys a happy, safe week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Tomorrow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x12 - 3rd Life</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Put your hands where I can see them, <i>both of you</i>!” Rossi demanded as the three of us drew our guns, training them on the struggling me in front of us. At the click of the safety’s coming off they both froze and Mr. Vaughn’s hands flew up. Mr. Mannan went to turn and Rossi snarled, “<i>Do not move</i>!”</p>
<p>“Stop! Okay, okay! Just calm down,” Mr. Mannan barked, looking back at us as he finally put his hands up too. “Look, I’m gonna reach into my pocket, and I’m gonna take out a badge. Just calm down.” </p>
<p>As Mr. Mannan slowly began to reach into his pocket, I tightened my grip on the gun, ready to react. As he did so, Spencer shifted just a couple inches to his left, putting himself directly up against me and keeping me partially shielded. </p>
<p>
  <i>Swoon.</i>
</p>
<p>Finally, a badge was produced and Mr. Mannan held it up, letting the flap fall open. All of us leaned in to read as he explained, “see? United States Marshal. Jack and Lindsey are under my authority.”</p>
<p>Rossi spared a glance back at Spencer and I, giving a small nod. At his cue we slowly lowered our guns as he turned back and asked the men, “which is what?” </p>
<p>“Witness protection,” Spencer deduced as he holstered his pistol. Mr. Mannan shared a heavy look with Mr. Vaughn, confirming our genius doctor had gotten that right. Rossi made a noise of disbelief as he shoved his gun away, planting his hand on his hips as he took a sharp breath to steady his temper. </p>
<p>I didn’t try to get a handle on my own. </p>
<p>“You didn’t think that was something important to mention?” I snapped, stepping around Spencer and crossing my arms to glare up at the two of them. Mr. Vaughn at least had the decency to look mildly guilty; Mr. Mannan looked like he was fully fed up with me. <i>Good.</i></p>
<p>“I don’t appreciate that tone,” he began. I shrugged and his eyes narrowed just a hint. “Vaughn’s situation is on a strict need-to-know basis –“</p>
<p>“And what, when a fifteen-year-old girl under your protection went missing, that didn’t constitute as <i>‘need-to-know’</i> for the FBI?”</p>
<p>Mr. Mannan scoffed and asked pointedly, “well, did you know about it?”</p>
<p>I went to snark back at him and now Rossi came up beside me, subtly nudging me back a few steps. Thankfully, though, he was just as angry as I was. “No, we didn’t, and that’s a problem, <i>Pat</i>. With Jack being in WITSEC, it completely changes the dynamics of this case. It changes our entire pool of suspects, the profile of our UnSubs, and without filling us in, it can lead to situations like this that put everyone at risk.”</p>
<p>Mr. Vaughn fully ducked his head now, but Mr. Mannan was on a whole ‘nother level today, apparently. He let out a bark of laughter and shook his head as he turned away from us, muttering, “this is unbelievable. Trying to tell me how to do my own job…”</p>
<p>Rossi turned to me, cutting off the next sharp retort I had ready to go. “Trust me, I’m right there with you, kid. You and Reid take them to the living room, and I’ll get Hotch over here. Keep the feisty interrogation to a minimum for now, okay?”</p>
<p>Fine, fine. I wouldn’t rip him apart… yet. He caught the look on my face and chuckled softly, nudging me off towards the living room as he slipped into the kitchen, already dialing Hotch’s number. As I moved to follow Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Mannan into the living room, Spencer came up beside me and settled a hand on my arm to keep me back a moment.  </p>
<p>When I looked up at him, his soft toffee eyes instantly flickered between my own, genuine concern taking over his face. For a moment I wondered if he could feel the adrenaline sparking through me, if he could her my heart still hammering in my chest. Sure, it’d just been a brief altercation, but it was enough to leave me frazzled. </p>
<p>“Are you alright?” he asked softly; how I wasn’t just a puddle on the floor at this point, I didn’t know. I took a deep breath to settle myself as I gave him a quick nod.</p>
<p>“I’m good,” I promised him, and when he didn’t look fully convinced – <i>double swoon</i> – I gave his hand on my arm a gentle pat. “Really. Thank you for stepping up for me.”</p>
<p>Spencer quirked a small smile at me, cheeks tinting the most adorable shade of pink as he gave a quick nod, moving aside to let me pass. “Of course. You don’t need to thank me for that.”</p>
<p>“Too bad,” I shrugged, looking back at him as I led us into the living room. “Thanks.”</p>
<p>Mr. Vaughn had settled into an armchair, elbows on his knees and chin resting on clasped hands. He didn’t look up as Spencer and I came to stand across from him, but Mr. Mannan didn’t look away. He was right next to Mr. Vaughn, arms crossed, squinted glare passing between the two of us. </p>
<p>It was a tense twenty minutes, to say the least. Rossi had managed to rip out a few more details of the situation, but after a couple of questions both clammed up, and they hadn’t spoken since. It felt like none of us moved – or even dared to breathe – until we heard a car pulling into the driveway. The room came back to life the second the front door swung open. </p>
<p>Hotch made a beeline for us, his dark eyes briefly sweeping over Spencer and Rossi before they landed on me. He paused in front of me, studying me for a moment; what had Rossi told him? Whatever it was, he looked pretty irritated. Well, more honestly, he looked downright <i>pissed</i>.</p>
<p>“What’s going on?” he asked the three of us. Rossi nodded to the men behind him and said,  </p>
<p>“Jack and Lindsey are in witness protection.”</p>
<p>“And they have been for ten years,” I told him. Mr. Mannan’s cold glare landed on me again and I crossed my arms and lifted a brow at him as I added, “must be <i>really</i> important.”</p>
<p>He looked ready to snap at me when Hotch turned on his heel to stare him down. The look on his face was enough to keep the grumpy <i>US Marshal</i> quiet. </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell us immediately?” Hotch asked them both incredulously. Mr. Vaughn kept quiet, eyes fixated on his shoes, but Mr. Mannan wasn’t happy with being called out on what he’d done wrong. </p>
<p>“Because, <i>Agent</i>, he’s a state’s witness, who’s identity needs to be protected at all costs.” And, like he wasn’t in the crosshairs of the FBI, Mr. Mannan had the audacity to turn away from us and tell Mr. Vaughn, “y’know, Jack, we don’t need to say a thing. This may not have anything to do with –“</p>
<p>“With what, his past? Which, clearly, was such a danger to him and his daughter that he had to be put into witness protection?” I quipped; I could’ve sworn I heard Rossi swallowing a snort. Mr. Mannan’s jaw tensed and he actually took a step in our direction.</p>
<p>Just as Spencer had done earlier, Hotch shifted to put himself in front of me. I couldn’t see his face, but whatever stare he had fixed on Mr. Mannan was cold enough to freeze him in his spot. He held the stare a moment longer before he turned his attention to the man hunched in the armchair. </p>
<p>“Jack, every person in this room – with the exception of <i>him</i> – is here for your daughter,” Hotch promised. Mr. Vaughn looked up for the first time since sitting down as he continued, “we want to help you, but we can only do that if you let us.”</p>
<p>Mr. Mannan turned to say something to him, but Mr. Vaughn held up a hand, his eyes not leaving Hotch’s. He took a breath, pressed his lips together briefly, and then admitted, “If… this <i>does</i> have anything to do with me, they’ll be comin’ outta Boston.”</p>
<p>“Jack, you shouldn’t say –“ Mr. Mannan began, but Mr. Vaughn shook his head, eyes fixed on Hotch as he added, </p>
<p>“They’d be Irish-American, two men or more.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Hotch told him, giving a nod before turning to us again. “Let’s get them back to the station and keep them there until this is over.”</p>
<p>Rossi nodded and motioned for Spencer to follow him, and they skirted around us to come up to Mr. Vaughn, both guiding him ahead of them and out the door to the waiting SUV. I moved to follow, but only got a couple steps past Hotch when Mr. Mannan put himself between me and the door. </p>
<p>He put his hands in his pockets, staring down his nose at me, doing all he could to make me feel smaller than him. I drew myself up as much as I could and tipped my head, steeling my gaze and tightening my arms over my chest. </p>
<p>“Something I can help you with?” I asked coolly. His jaw tensed, and for a heartbeat I thought he would actually give me a piece of his mind. That was, until a hand settled on my shoulder. </p>
<p>Hotch came up just behind me, his grip tightening just a hint as Mr. Mannan’s eyes flicked dismissively to him. Hotch was daring him to say something, and the man in front of us didn’t have the guts. </p>
<p>Instead, he just shook his head and warned, </p>
<p>“You know… you guys have <i>no</i> idea who or <i>what</i> you’re dealin’ with here.”</p>
<p>“Then either enlighten us, or stay our of our way,” Hotch said quietly, the venom in his voice so potent it actually made <i>my</i> blood turn cold. </p>
<p>Hotch stepped up and put himself between me and Mr. Mannan as he gently urged me forward. His hand stayed firm on my shoulder as he followed me out, right behind me, daring Mr. Mannan to try his patience again. </p>
<p>At least he was smart enough not to cross Aaron Hotchner on a bad day.  </p>
<p>We stepped outside and Mr. Mannan reluctantly followed, all but stomping to the SUV like a kid throwing a tantrum. I went to follow him down when Hotch asked quietly but firmly, “Aria, a word?”</p>
<p>Uh oh. What’d I do? Instantly my mind went to the snappy retorts I’d thrown out before he got there, and I swallowed nervously as I shuffled up to him. I’d been idly warned a couple times to keep my temper in check during cases. Snapping at Morgan in the bullpen was one thing, but being a smart ass with a US Marshal was probably something I needed to avoid. </p>
<p>“Sorry. I know what I said was a little out of line saying –“</p>
<p>“Did Mannan put his hands on you?” </p>
<p>We spoke at the same time and it took me a second to realize what he’d asked. After a couple moments of silence he prompted, “Aria?”</p>
<p>“I – well, kind of. Yeah,” I started, and cut off at the look on his face. Just when I thought his scowl couldn’t get any deeper, he went and proved me wrong. His entire face seemed to darken and his eyes snapped up, over my head to Mr. Mannan. </p>
<p>I was so stunned to see the expression on his face, all I could do was stare up at him. His gaze fell back to me and he asked, “are you alright?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine. Just fine,” I promised him quickly. He relaxed a bit, the fury on his face subsiding as he studied me to see if I’d been truthful. For a moment, I wondered what his reaction would’ve been if I’d told him I wasn’t. Wanting to ease the situation, I tried to explain, “Penny asked me to get the IP address of Mr. Vaughn’s computer. When they caught me, I gave a dodgy answer and tried to make a run for it, and Mr. Mannan stopped me –”</p>
<p>“Stopped you?” he repeated, face starting to shadow with his scowl again. Before he could get too upset, I clarified, </p>
<p>“He just grabbed my arm. It didn’t hurt, and Spencer got him off pretty fast.” Hotch’s lips pressed together, like my explanation had only somehow made the situation worse in his mind. “Really, I’m okay. They were upset I was snooping, and –“</p>
<p>“I don’t care what the reasoning is, it’s unacceptable,” Hotch cut in, his fury beginning to spark in his dark gaze once again. “It was one thing to block you from leaving just now, but to put his hands on you and physically prevent you from leaving is incredibly inappropriate.”</p>
<p>For a couple moments, I really didn’t know how to respond. Rossi must’ve seen the altercation earlier, and told Hotch on the call. I actually hadn’t even planned on mentioning it and now I really didn’t know what to say. Hotch’s genuine anger at how I’d been treated wasn’t something I’d been prepared for. </p>
<p>“I mean, I’m all in favor of you punching Mr. Mannan in the face. And if anyone came asking, I’d let them know I didn’t see a thing,” I told him. Though he didn’t smile, his lips twitched just a hint. “And, if your fist ricocheted off and hit Mr. Vaughn too, well… I certainly wouldn’t know anything about that, either.”</p>
<p>Tension and anger settled for now, Hotch just nodded towards the SUV and shook his head. “I believe we’ve discussed that face-punching isn’t an acceptable tactic used by the FBI.”</p>
<p>“And, again, I say we petition to make an exception in extreme circumstances.”</p>
<p>“I’ll let you bring that up with Strauss,” he deadpanned, getting a grimace out of me at the very thought. “I <i>do</i> have a question for you, though.”</p>
<p>When I looked up at him and raised my eyebrows, inviting him to ask, he frowned again. “What were you out of line for saying?”</p>
<p>Shit. Of <i>course</i> he’d noticed I’d started to say that. In answer, I blinked up at him innocently and feigned, </p>
<p>“Hmm? What are you talking about?” </p>
<p>“Right.” Hotch sighed, doing his best to give me a stern look. It would’ve been a little more intimidating if he wasn’t trying to bite back a smile. “Just get in the car.”</p>
<p>I smiled wide enough for the both of us.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Tires crunching down the road caught my attention, and I looked up from the ongoing struggle with my vest. Hotch, at my side, flagged down the others before turning to check the fit of my vest. He gave an experimental tug, frowned, and then undid one of the straps. </p>
<p>“No movement, remember?” he said as he velcro’d the vest back together. “If there’s movement, it could shift in a pursuit or a struggle, and you could be left vulnerable.”</p>
<p>I was ninety percent sure it was just as tight as it was before he fiddled with it, but I just gave him a nod. If it made him feel better, then we’d roll with it. “Got it. No movement, and only minimal room for my lungs to expand. Breath every other minute.”</p>
<p>Hotch’s lips twitched as he fought off a small smile, turning and motioning for me to follow as we went to meet the others. The detective was the first out, and he circled the SUV to meet us, giving Hotch and I a wary look. </p>
<p>“How on earth did you beat us here? We left at the same time,” he said slowly. Emily and Rossi gave me bemused smirks as Spencer bit back a smile, shaking his head; I spun the keys before tucking them into my pocket. </p>
<p>“An FBI intern never reveals her secrets,” I chided playfully, falling into step with the others as I let Hotch and Rossi take the lead with the detective. Emily reached up and, just like Hotch did, she tugged on my vest. </p>
<p>“Can you even breathe with it this tight?”</p>
<p>“Marginally,” I told her, getting a stifled snort from her in reply as we made our way down the road.  </p>
<p>Right after we’d gotten back to the station, an officer had called in to report something found in a neighborhood of abandoned houses. As Spencer and I had figured, they were sprinkled right along the edge of town, nice and isolated. </p>
<p>“This is where members of the Irish Mob came to murder a kid?” the detective asked doubtfully, looking around at the crumbling houses we passed. Hotch shook his head and voiced what he and I had been discussing on the ride over. </p>
<p>“At this point, it seems highly unlikely that the UnSub that killed Katie and took Lindsey is tied to Jack Vaughn’s WITSEC situation. This is looking like someone local.” When the detective made a noise of disagreement, Hotch glanced back to Spencer. “What is it to the dump site? Five miles?” </p>
<p>“Six point two miles south,” he corrected. The detective gave him a bewildered look and Spencer ducked his head immediately. I gave him a supportive elbow-nudge, and he peeked down at me shyly. When I smiled up at him, he spared a smile back. </p>
<p>“If this <i>is</i> where Katie was murdered, why didn’t they dump Katie’s body on the other side of town to draw us further from here?” Emily continued, picking up on Hotch’s point instantly; that’s exactly why I loved her. The detective still looked lost, so Rossi tacked on,</p>
<p>“And, why’d they risk heading out on the open road while everyone was out looking for the girls? The whole department was on high alert, and these guys still risked exposing themselves.”</p>
<p>“An experienced criminal wouldn’t make a risky move like that,” the detective realized, finally on the same page as us. “He got spooked and something forced him to move on instead of laying low.”</p>
<p>The officer who’d stumbled upon the house flagged us down and we veered over onto the sidewalk that led up to a broken front door. The moment we stepped inside I almost actually recoiled from the smell. It was a putrid mixture of stale alcohol, cigarette smoke, and rotten food swirling together with the lingering tang of blood. </p>
<p>As we all tugged on our latex gloves, Hotch motioned to Rossi and Spencer, then nodded to the stairs behind us. Emily and I followed him further into the living room, spreading out wordlessly to start examining what had been left behind. </p>
<p>Emily peeled off to one corner of the room and I followed Hotch across to a busted window. He knelt to examine the glass and the cigarette butts beneath it as I turned my attention to the bloodstains that were both smeared on the walls and pooled on the dingy carpet. </p>
<p>“I’ve got Katie’s cellphone,” Emily called out from one corner of the living room as I knelt down to examine the ground around me. </p>
<p>“Two different sets of footprints,” I reported, standing back up as Hotch came over to have a look too. As he got up too, he sighed and said,</p>
<p>“We have two UnSubs, at least.”</p>
<p>“Jack said there’d be two of them,” the detective pointed out, still clinging to this whole <i>revenge of the mobsters</i> theory he was so fond of. I was more than happy to burst that bubble, most because I knew <i>how</i>, and I liked being able to show off the little bit of profiling I could manage to do. </p>
<p>“There’s cigarette butts, beer cans, and liquor bottles everywhere. Not to mention all the blood… literally <i>and</i> forensically, this is a real mess. A professional wouldn’t have left a scene like this.”</p>
<p>“You’d think they’d just want do the job and move on, but these UnSubs lingered. They weren’t in a rush or on any kind of mission,” Hotch agreed, walking with me over to the entryway. The detective, still not fully convinced, asked us both, </p>
<p>“What if this was a taunt, though? Left out purposely because they know we can’t catch them?”</p>
<p>Footsteps on the stairs behind us caught our attention, and a moment later Spencer and Rossi had rejoined us. Rossi gave me a nod, saying he’d take over from here. I subtly inched away, turning back to study the rest of the room as he explained, </p>
<p>“Sure, it’s a possibility. I just don’t think it gets that complicated. Like Aria said, it’s just too sloppy. There’s a belt upstairs, probably the one used to strangle Katie. If this were an attack against Jack, if they were taunting us, why not go after <i>his</i> daughter? Why leave us essentially everything we’d need to track them down?”</p>
<p>“Statistically, it would make much more sense for this to be done by someone local and inexperienced, than by a professional going out of their way to goad us into hunting them down,” Spencer finished plainly. </p>
<p>Hearing he and Rossi defend my profiling again sent warmth fluttering through me and got a small smile on my face. Knowing the team would back me just made me that much for confident with my skills. </p>
<p>Which were now picking up on something else. At first, it’d seemed the bloody prints had just been left on the carpet, but further into the kitchen I could see dark smears on the linoleum. AS the others continued their talk with the detective, I slipped past them and followed the footprints. The sliding glass door leading to the backyard was shattered, the shards lying in a sizeable pool of blood.  </p>
<p>Uh oh. This wasn’t good. </p>
<p>“Hey, guys?” I called, looking back warily to the others. Spencer, the closest to me, was at my side in the next moment, and I barely fought the instant blushing at his concern. Hotch was next, popping around the corner as Rossi, Em, and the detective followed right behind. “It looks like someone made a break for it.”</p>
<p>Now that they were with me, I turned and led the way into the backyard, carefully stepping over the glass and blood. Hotch was right behind me, and as I expected, he pulled ahead to lead the way. </p>
<p>“Could it be one of the UnSubs?” I asked the others as we carefully climbed through a hole in the fence. Emily glanced back and offered, </p>
<p>“Maybe. It could also be Lindsey.”</p>
<p>“They’ve lost a lot of blood,” Spencer said slowly, hanging back as he knelt to study the dark smears in the dirt. I paused too, staying at his side. <i>Not</i> because I liked watching him work, or liked how his brows burrowed together as he bit his full lips… no, not that. I just wanted tomake sure he didn’t get jumped by anyone, and that was <i>all</i>. “It’s thinner the further we go. An arterial bleed. That doesn’t bode well for whoever it is.”</p>
<p>“It stops here,” Hotch called from a little further up. Spencer stood, and when he noticed me at his side he paused in surprise, and a bashful smile crept over his face. We both ducked our heads as we scurried off to reach the rest of the team as Hotch ordered, “We need to spread out and search the grounds. Check every house.”</p>
<p>The rest of the team split up and went off in different directions and, knowing what he was gonna say, I turned and stepped up to Hotch just as he’d opened his mouth. “I’m with you. Lead the way.”</p>
<p>He gave a swift nod and the ghost of a smile before he turned, pulled his gun out, and took off towards a house on the far side of the street, just past the one Emily had gone into. As we approached the first door I tried the knob, but shook my head. </p>
<p>“Stand back,”  Hotch warned, and as soon as I was back behind him, he kicked the door nearly completely off its hinges. “Alright, remember to – what?”</p>
<p>He’d looked back to check on me and, admittedly, I was just gaping at him. When I didn’t answer right away, he raised his brows and I managed a thrilled, “that was <i>bad ass</i>!”</p>
<p>Hotch actually snorted. “I’m glad you thought so. Stay with me, keep an eye behind us as we move, and keep quiet.”</p>
<p>As soon as I nodded in understanding, he turned and led the way inside. We swept the first two homes in the building quickly, and came up with nothing but more beer cans and stale cigarette smoke. </p>
<p>On the third one though, the moment Hotch kicked the door in – still as awesome as the first time – we were hit with a stomach-churning smell. Unfortunately, I was way too familiar with the smell of death, and we shared a knowing look. This wouldn’t be good. </p>
<p>Following the awful stench, Hotch led us up the stairs at a steady pace. He paused at the top, and when I joined him he nodded down the hall. There were more bloodstains on the carpet, and a smear on the door at the end of the hall. </p>
<p>We worked quickly, clearing the other rooms along the way, and when we reached the last door Hotch took the lead. He looked back at me and mouthed <i>on three</i>. When I nodded, he turned back and bobbed his head as he counted down. </p>
<p>At the silent <i>three</i>, he surged forward and threw the door open so hard it actually splintered when it hit the wall. I was in right behind him, and at the same time we lifted our guns to the figure lying on the floor. </p>
<p>“Guys, last house on the left, second floor. We’ve got something,” Hotch called in as he slowly holstered his gun, nodding at me to do the same. Hotch walked up to the body and motioned for me to follow. </p>
<p>When I reached his side, he nodded down at the guy laying at our feet and asked, “what can you tell me?”</p>
<p>“Well,” I started, sinking down onto my haunches, carefully avoiding the blood soaking the carpet around his body. I slipped my latex gloves back on as I leaned closer. Carefully moving his tattered shirt just a hint, I reported, “he was stabbed two… no, three times. He’s got shallow scratch marks on his face and arms, and…”</p>
<p>Hotch knelt at my side and took the guy’s arm with his own gloved hand, turning it over and confirming, “and a bite mark on his hand.”</p>
<p>“These are all defensive wounds,” I said slowly, furrowing my brow as I studied the body in front of us. “Could Katie or Lindsey have done this?”</p>
<p>Hotch shook his head, leaning a little closer. “Not all of these. Some are marks from him defending <i>himself</i>. To injure one person and hold two others would mean it’s safe to say there are at least three UnSubs, including him. At some point, things got out of hand and he wanted out. The others he was with weren’t about to let that happen.”</p>
<p>“He made a run for it and got stabbed in the process. If it was dark out, they wouldn’t have been able to track him down. They…” realization struck and I looked up at Hotch. “That’s what forced them to move on. They would’ve thought he went to the police, and in a panic they ran and dumped Katie as quickly as they could.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Hotch praised quietly, pushing to his feet. As I did the same, he pressed, “now, why would they keep Lindsey?”</p>
<p>Okay, that part I didn’t know. “That doesn’t make sense to me. Wouldn’t it be easier to have just killed her? I mean, so far it doesn’t seem like any of this was planned. If killing Katie was enough to spook at least one of them, why not just finish with Lindsey and make a break without dragging someone else with them?”</p>
<p>Hotch nodded in agreement. “It would have. So, what would’ve made the UnSubs choose Lindsey over the easier option of murdering her?”</p>
<p>“If… well, strangling Katie shows control is important to one of them, at least. And then killing their own partner when he wanted to do something against their orders… Maybe keeping Lindsey is his way of trying to maintain <i>some</i> control in all of this.”</p>
<p>For the first time in several days, Hotch actually smiled at me. I was so elated I instantly smiled back. “Excellent profiling. Let’s go grab the others and bring them up to speed.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>A shiver raced down my spine; eyes were fixated on me, and I knew exactly who it was. </p>
<p>Again, I looked back and caught Mr. Vaughn staring our direction, looking between Spencer and I in front of the map, and the rest of the team giving the profile in the other room. Rossi <i>and</i> Hotch had spoken with him about leaving the hunt for Lindsey’s abductors up to us, but he clearly wasn’t happy with that decision. </p>
<p>I couldn’t focus on that now, though. If we wanted to find Lindsey alive, we had to identify this UnSub. I turned back to Spencer, about to call Penelope, when I saw he was looking over my head. A look over my shoulder confirmed Mr. Vaughn was still staring at us. </p>
<p>That didn’t surprise me. What <i>did</i> catch me off-guard was the look Spencer was giving him right back. Spencer Reid didn’t <i>glare</i>. As it seemed to end up a lot, though, it seemed that he made exceptions for me. Almost making excuses to rest a hand on my back or my arm even though he hated touch, standing up to Mr. Mannan to get his hands off me when he hated confrontation…</p>
<p>Now, we could add staring down ex-hitman to the list too. </p>
<p>“Scruffy?” at his nickname, he instantly looked down at me and cleared his throat, wiping away the remnants of his scowl. I quirked a brow at him. “You okay?”</p>
<p>He nodded quickly and offered me a nearly-shy smile as he rushed out, “fine. I’m sorry. Have – have you called Garcia yet?”</p>
<p>“Calling her now,” I assured, unable to hide the smile that snuck out. I didn’t need to be a genius profiler to know he was glaring at Mr. Vaughn for me, and really at this point I couldn’t swoon anymore than I already was. </p>
<p>Penelope picked up on the second ring and chirped, “what can I do for you, my sweet summer flower?”</p>
<p>“Hey Penny. You’ve got me and Spencer,” I prefaced. I heard her give an interested <i>oh?</i> and quickly went on, “did you get the photos Em sent to you?”</p>
<p>Chuckling to herself, knowing exactly what I was doing, she chuckled and said, “I sure did. I’m having trouble narrowing down the search, though. His face isn’t pulling any matches in… in it’s <i>condition</i>, so I’ll need to do it manually.”</p>
<p>“We can help with that,” Spencer assured, turning to study the pictures we had spread out on the table. “He’s between fifteen to eighteen, so start with every high school in the Chula Vista area.”</p>
<p>“Okay…” she began, and a whirlwind of clicks came through the phone. She huffed and they abruptly stopped. “Uh, Chula Vista has seven public schools and three private schools. I need your beautiful brains to give me more than that.”</p>
<p>I sat the phone on the table between us and leaned down to look at the photos now too. “Kay, let’s see here… He’s white, with brown hair and blue eyes, 5’9…”</p>
<p>“You just described the majority of the high schoolers on my screen,” she pointed out. Damnit, she had a point. “I need more!”</p>
<p>Spencer nodded and grabbed my phone, turning back to the map board and leaning in a little closer. As he studies the city, I studied him. I’d been trying to lay off the creepy Spencer-watching I caught myself doing a lot, but I was only human, I just couldn’t help it.</p>
<p>Morgan called Spencer <i>pretty</i> a lot, and at first I hadn’t agreed. That hadn’t seemed to fit him, because in my mind, <i>pretty</i> was Penelope’s bright dresses and flawless curves. <i>Pretty</i> was JJ’s soft, blonde hair and her long, slim legs. <i>Pretty</i> was the fire in Emily’s eyes and the curl of her dangerous smirk. </p>
<p>Now, though, I saw <i>pretty</i> in Spencer, too. In the long, lean lines of his body, and the soft, chocolate curls tucked behind his ears. I saw <i>pretty</i> in the sweep of his slim fingers, the cut of his sharp jaw, the pink flush of his full lips… </p>
<p>Spencer Reid was pretty, and I was a total sucker for his aesthetic. Would he mind if I called him pretty? Maybe I’d try to, whenever we managed to go on our date…</p>
<p>“Most of the activity’s in the southeastern district…” Spencer told Penelope, jolting me out of my thoughts so suddenly I actually almost gasped. Thankfully I kept myself quiet as he continued,  “the socio-economic dynamic’s predominantly working class. Try looking within a three mile radius of the Castle Park area.”</p>
<p>As Penelope’s keys went clacking again, Spencer turned and sat down the photo he’d been holding, catching my eye as he did so. Lord, there I went again, totally lost in Spencer’s honey-hazel eyes. I had to stop, or I’d end up falling down <i>that</i> rabbit hole, and it was one I couldn’t pull myself out of as easily. </p>
<p>Thankfully, Penelope spoke up to help break the spell, reporting, “down to two high schools. Now what?”</p>
<p>“Start with the largest,” I suggested, getting an agreeing nod from Spencer at that. It took Penelope only a couple more moments of digging before she <i>ah-ha</i>’d. </p>
<p>“Okay, let’s see what we got…” she began. “I’m down to just five faces… <i>jinkies</i>. I got ‘im. I’m sending it your way, my brilliant little bees.”</p>
<p>She ended the call, and not a minute later, the fax machine of the conference room started ringing. The moment the photo and paper came through, I snatched it, and the two of us rushed off to the others. </p>
<p>“… and the dominant male, in order to maintain control, attacked him –“ Hotch paused the profile when he saw Spencer and I scampering across the station towards them. “Do you two have something?”</p>
<p>In answer, I held up the photo and skirted past, directly to the evidence board, to tack up the picture as Spencer announced, “Douglas Silverman. Eighteen years old.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” Hotch said instantly, rallying us all around him as he studied the board a moment, putting together a game plan. “We need to find out all we can about him. Talk to parents, teachers, any friends we can find… figuring out who Douglas is friends with will be the key to finding Lindsey.”</p>
<p>“We can go check the school,” Morgan offered instantly, glancing to Rossi. Hotch gave a nod, and the two of them took off, already calling Penelope for the information. </p>
<p>“JJ, talk to Jack and the Owen’s. See if either of them know Douglas. Reid, work with Garcia to gather all possible suspects and work on mapping out Douglas Silverman’s geographical profile. Aria, you can go with me –“</p>
<p>“Actually, Hotch?” Spencer cut in, glancing to me before looking back to our boss. “Can Aria stay here? It would be helpful to have her assist with gathering information from Garcia.”</p>
<p>Normally, I knew he’d give the okay. He’d relaxed a lot more with allowing me to stick with people other than himself and staying at the station was practically the safest option, right behind keeping me at Quantico. </p>
<p>This time, he hesitated, and I didn’t miss the flick of his eyes over to the office Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Mannan were in. </p>
<p>“I’ll be okay here,” I piped up, hoping to help the cause. When he still didn’t relent completely, I jammed my thumb at Spencer and assured, “this one’s got faster reflexes than Mobster Rossi. We’ll be just fine here.”</p>
<p>Hotch pressed his lips together, looking between the two of us. He still seemed uncertain, but we were on a time crunch. Finally, he gave a slow nod. </p>
<p>“Alright. Stay together and work on narrowing down what you can. Call me as soon as you find something. And, Aria,” he added, pausing as he went to turn and leave. “I don’t want you near Jack <i>or</i> Mannan. Understood?”</p>
<p>I quirked a smile. “Yes, sir. I’ll stick to the board and leave the heavy lifting to Spencer.”</p>
<p>He chuckled and, though he still looked like he didn’t want to leave, he finally turned to follow Rossi and the others outside.  </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>When JJ finally emerged from the conference room shaking her head, irritation spiked and I didn’t even try to stifle my groan. I slumped lower on the desk I was sitting on; we’d reached <i>another</i> dead end. Spencer, in the chair beside me, looked up at the noise and offered me a sympathetic half-smile. </p>
<p>When JJ paused next to us she sighed, “Jack said he doesn’t forget anyone, and he’s never seen this one before. <i>But</i>,” she added at the look on my face. “He said the girls spent a lot of time at a local coffee shop. I’ll go run down there, see what I can get from the employees.”</p>
<p>“Better than nothing,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. The sound of a door shutting caught my attention and I looked past her. Mr. Owen had gone into the office Jack was set up in. Frowning, I looked over at JJ and asked, “what’s going on there?”</p>
<p>She looked to what I was nodding at, and then turned back with a sad smile on her face. “Mr. Owen said he wanted to talk with Jack. He’s being strong for his wife, and I think he needs a friend to lean on. They should be alright, but if anything happens, make sure you don’t –“</p>
<p>“I’ll send Spencer in to deal with them,” I confirmed, getting a bemused smile from the genius at my side. “Roger, dodger.”</p>
<p>JJ gave me a thumbs up as she headed through the station, off to dig up what she could. Spencer was still scanning through the couple hundred pages that Penny had faxed us, pulling out all the <i>Ryan</i>’s and <i>Brian</i>’s he came across. That was all Hotch and Emily had managed to get from Douglas Silverman’s father about who one of the possible other suspects could be.  </p>
<p>It wasn’t much, but it was more than the Owen’s or Mr. Vaughn had given us. Did they <i>really</i> not know anything about Douglas? About who their daughters might’ve been spending time with? It just didn’t sit right with me, but for now we’d dig with what we had. </p>
<p>Almost half an hour later, Spencer held up a sheet he’d scribbled on and I took it as I asked, </p>
<p>“Alright… Brian Rollins?” I offered Penelope, squinting to make out Spencer’s chicken scratch. Honestly, chickens probably had better penmanship that him. </p>
<p>“Nope, zip and zilch with a side of nada,” she sighed, and I slumped a little more on the desk. Yet <i>another</i> dead end. As I tossed the paper aside I asked Spencer, </p>
<p>“That was the last of the <i>Brian</i>’s, wasn’t it?”</p>
<p>He <i>mhmm</i>’d as he pushed one stack of papers aside, starting on another. </p>
<p>“Well, I got started on compiling the <i>Ryan</i>’s. There’s not as many, surprisingly,” Penelope offered. “I’ve got three Ryan’s that all went to Lindsey and Katie’s school.”</p>
<p>“Okay… the Ryan we’re looking for would have most likely gotten expelled, or at least flunked out.”</p>
<p>“I might have something,” Penelope said, a hint of hope in her voice. Spencer and I both sat up eagerly as she said, “there’s Ryan Phillips. He was expelled for smoking pot a few years ago –”</p>
<p>The door to the office opened unexpectedly and Spencer actually gave a start. Mostly, y’know, ‘cause I’d jumped so hard I nearly fell off the desk. It’d been quiet around us for so long that I’d forgotten there were people in the office. </p>
<p>Well… there <i>were</i> people. Mr. Owen had been the only one to walk out just now, but the room was empty. Alarm rippled through me and I hopped off the desk, skirting around Spencer to lean inside. </p>
<p>The room was empty, and Mr. Vaughn’s bottle of pills was sitting on the table. </p>
<p><i>Shit</i>.</p>
<p>“Spencer!” I said quickly, spinning on my heel. At the tone of my voice his head snapped up and he turned to me. “I think we have a –“</p>
<p>“He’s taken my car!” Mr. Mannan shouted as he stormed into the station, wiping at the blood pooling from his nose. “Bastard took my car!”</p>
<p>Spencer and I shared a horrified look. </p>
<p>“Pen, get Hotch on the line. We’ve got a major problem.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Things had gone from bad to terribly abysmal in record time. Mr. Vaughn was off hunting down our prime suspect, the rest of the team was scattered across town, and we still had no idea where Ryan and the other UnSub were keeping Lindsey. </p>
<p>I was busy reading off coordinates and Spencer, at the map, was scribbling as fast as those long fingers could go. Of course, hovering right over both of us, was a grumpy Mr. Mannan. He’d just come back from cleaning off his face, and he was just as useless as before. </p>
<p>“You’ve gotta find ‘em, and fast,” he barked out, practically crowding Spencer against the map, all but breathing down his neck. Not in the mood to deal with him anymore, I stood and went to stand at Spencer’s shoulder, purposefully making Mr. Mannan back up. </p>
<p>As he opened his mouth to reprimend me I snapped, “calm down. What does it look like he’s doing?”</p>
<p>“Coloring in a map,” he began, and clearly he’d reached the end of Spencer’s patience now too.</p>
<p>The irritated doctor spared a brief glance up at the man glaring down at the two of us, his coffee eyes darkened to a deep, burning sienna. He tapped the map with his marker and explained, “all the activity is focused in the southeastern district. The abduction site, the dump site, and now Ryan Phillips’ house. If Aria and I can narrow down one central location, we’ll find out where Ryan and Jack are right now.”</p>
<p>Before he could argue – like he undoubtedly wanted to do – Mr. Mannan’s phone started going off. Spencer and I shared an exasperated scowl, both turning our attention back to the map. As I read off the next location and he got to scribbling, Mr. Mannan called out to us, </p>
<p>“Gunshots comin’ from Jackson street.” Spencer tapped the map, showing me where it was at. Completely out of the comfort zone, and not even in the radius of what we were mapping out. Whatever the gunshots were, they didn’t matter to us right now. When neither of us moved, Mr. Mannan barked, “<i>hello</i>? You two comin’?” </p>
<p>My patience with the man was long gone, and Hotch wasn’t here to reign me in. Handing off the next marker to Spencer, I looked over my shoulder and dismissed, “Mr. Vaughn already took your car, so he won’t be jumping you again. I’m sure you can handle this one on your own, Mr. <i>U.S. Marshal</i>.”</p>
<p>Spencer didn’t even try to hide his snort. Mr. Mannan sneered at the two of us before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the conference room. <i>Finally</i>. Only once I was sure he was out of earshot did I murmur to Spencer, “don’t tell Hotch about that.”</p>
<p>“About what?” he asked, giving me a teasing smile before he went back to his mapping. Unbothered now, I stood at his side and watched him work as I read off the last location Penelope had sent us. </p>
<p>When he drew the last circle, his hand froze and he actually gasped. “Aria, look at this!”</p>
<p>His pen tapped the map right in the center of where all the areas overlapped. I had my phone ringing between us in the next instant. As soon as it picked up, Hotch asked instantly,  </p>
<p>“Aria, good news please.”</p>
<p>“I think so, yeah. Spencer?” I said, holding the phone closer to him. He nervously ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face as he rattled off, </p>
<p>“After inputting all the sites, I’ve come up with a two-dimensional probability service overlay map that indicates the offender’s operating area, and –”</p>
<p>“Reid, what –“</p>
<p>Short on time, I lifted the phone up and said quickly, “Hotch, I know it sounds crazy, but everything on Spencer’s map points to Mayford High School. Where Katie, Lindsey, and Ryan went to school.”</p>
<p>“How close is that?” he asked; I heard commotion in the background as he rallied the others. </p>
<p>“From you? Almost ten minutes,” I reported, and practically heard him groan. I knew he wouldn’t like it, but I offered up, “we’re just two blocks away. I can get us there in a minute, two tops.”</p>
<p>He hesitated, and I <i>knew</i> he hated the idea of sending Spencer and I into an unknown situation. Right now, we didn’t have a choice, and he knew it. He let out a breath and finally relented, “alright. We’ll meet you there.”</p>
<p>Spencer grabbed our vests off the table as soon as we got the go-ahead. He wrestled his on, then held mine out to me as I said quickly, “kay, we’ll see you soon.”</p>
<p>I was just about to hang up when Hotch added, “Aria, Reid?” The two of us looked down to the phone. “Both of you be careful.”</p>
<p>“We will be,” I promised, sharing a brief smile with Spencer as he gave a confirming nod. “You too.”</p>
<p>As soon as I hung up, Spencer handed off my vest and then turned to grab the keys. I’d just fastened mine – making sure it was snug – when he reappeared looking frustrated. “All the SUV’s are gone –“</p>
<p>“Keys! I need keys,” I shouted, startling Spencer a couple of the officers nearby as I led us through the station. When none of them moved to offer them up I snapped, “A kid’s life depends on this! <i>Keys, now</i>!”</p>
<p>A couple pairs got tossed our way. I snagged the first one I could and we took off for the parking lot, hitting the <i>unlock</i> until we found the right car. The moment we shut the doors I threw us into reverse, then peeled out of the parking lot. </p>
<p>Traffic laws didn’t matter right now. I was pushing nearly sixty when I swung us into the school’s lot. As we rounded a corner, I caught sight of a car parked a ways down. And there, just running for the back door, was Jack Vaughn. He had a shotgun. </p>
<p>I slammed us to a stop and we were out of the car in the next heartbeat, sprinting down the sidewalk as we drew our guns. We came to the side of one building and he paused, putting an arm out to stop me as well. As he leaned around to check if we were clear he ordered,  </p>
<p>“Jack Vaughn is an UnSub, just like Ryan Phillips. Stay alert, stay with me, and stay back.”</p>
<p>“Got it,” I promised him, and we took off once again. As we rounded the corner and reached the front of the building, we heard a door shutting just ahead. My heart was in my throat, adrenaline at full blast; we were right behind him, and no Hotch in sight. </p>
<p>At the door, I scurried ahead and glanced back. Spencer lifted his gun, ready as I grabbed the handle and then pulled it open. He swept the hall in a second and then led the way inside, with me right behind him. The door shut behind us with an echoing <i>click</i>, and it settled on me that we were alone in this. </p>
<p>We were going to reach Mr. Vaughn and Ryan before the rest of team got to us. Our only hope would be to talk them down, or at the very least buy enough time for them to catch up. With how charged it all was, with an ex-hitman’s daughter at risk and her abductor unstable and erratic, I had a feeling this wasn’t gonna end well for us. </p>
<p>
  <i>Please hurry Hotch.</i>
</p>
<p>Halfway down the hall, we heard a girl shouting, “<i>Kill him</i>! <i>Kill him, daddy</i>!”</p>
<p>We skid to a stop at the door, shared one last look, and then I pulled this one open too. Spencer rushed inside and I followed right behind. We came around the corner of the stalls and I took in the scene in front of us in a heartbeat. </p>
<p>A young man – presumably Ryan – on the ground crowded back against a stall door. Mr. Vaughn standing above him, shotgun trained on him, with Lindsey just behind him. Spencer and I, alone, with backup still minutes away. </p>
<p>
  <i>Really not gonna end well.</i>
</p>
<p>“Put the gun down!” Spencer ordered, and instantly Ryan turned to us, sobbing,</p>
<p>“Help me, please! Please help me!” </p>
<p>Mr. Vaughn didn’t move. I tightened my grip on my pistol, prayed my voice would stay steady, and repeated, “Jack, put the gun down!”</p>
<p>“She begged him to stop and he laughed at her!” Lindsey cried, looking up at her dad before down at the man who’d kidnapped her. <i>He laughed at her</i>!”</p>
<p>She had to watch her best friend be strangled right beside her, and the man who’d done it was at the mercy of her shotgun-wielding dad. I understood how tempting the revenge for Katie was, but hearing a kid egging on a murder?</p>
<p>“I didn’t laugh at her! Honestly, I would change this if I could, but I can’t!” Ryan pleaded. I took a breath, and when Mr. Vaughn still didn’t move, I tried, </p>
<p>“Jack, you swore to your wife you’d protect Lindsey. Is this the way?” Mr. Vaughn didn’t turn, but his eyes flicked to us briefly. Spencer, taking my lead, added on, </p>
<p>“Listen to her, Jack. She – she’s begging you to kill somebody right in front of her. What do you think your wife wanted you to protect her from?”</p>
<p>“Jack… your life has been about violence, and if… if you do this, Lindsey’s will be too,” I pressed. In the distance, there were sirens. I felt my knees going weak in relief; Hotch and the team were almost here. Just a little longer. We just needed another minute. “Is that really what you want for your daughter?”</p>
<p>Mr. Vaughn had relaxed his hold on the gun just a hint. Just a little bit, showing that he was at least listening. <i>Just thirty more seconds</i>, I thought as the sirens drew closer and closer. Spencer took a breath, and asked him softly, </p>
<p>“When does it end, Jack?” Mr. Vaughn’s head turned just a bit to finally look at the two of us. At his side, Lindsey begged, <i>kill him</i>, and Spencer pressed, “when does it stop?”</p>
<p>There was a heartbeat of calm. Mr. Vaughn dropped his eyes to look at Lindsey, and he let out a shaking breath. Without warning, his head snapped forward and he lifted the shotgun. </p>
<p>“Tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“No –“ I gasped, just as Mr. Vaughn pulled the trigger. </p>
<p>Spencer recoiled and I flinched forward into his back as the shot echoed around us. A shaking breath left me; Spencer slowly lowered his gun. One of my arms fell limp at my side, heavy with the weight of my own, and my other reached out to take hold of Spencer’s sleeve.</p>
<p>We were both frozen, staring in horror at the body lying in front of us. It was one thing to see the victims already-dead, long gone, not having just begged me for help. Ryan had been alive just a second ago, looking at us in desperation. Though he’d killed Katie and kidnapped Lindsey, this isn’t how it should’ve ended. </p>
<p>Mr. Vaughn wrapped his arm around Lindsey and turned, coming towards us. The first movement from us came when Spencer reached back with the arm I was holding onto, sweeping me aside and closer to him to let them pass. Neither of us said a word, and neither of us tried to stop them as they left the bathroom. </p>
<p>Tears had started to fall, burning hot against my cheeks. It was the only thing I could feel right now; the rest of me was numb. I couldn’t look anymore, but I couldn’t move. My eyes screwed shut and I let out a shaky breath. My legs felt weak, run-through with adrenaline, and I stepped closer to Spencer.</p>
<p>He didn’t push me off as I pressed my face into the back of his arm. He let me hide like the child I felt I was in that moment, scared and sick and heartbroken all at once. Spencer, I realized, must’ve felt the same way. His left hand reached back and tangled into my skirt, holding tight, grounding himself just as I was trying to do. </p>
<p>There were voices just outside, but they sounded far away. Miles and miles from the horrible place we were stuck in. A door opened behind us, and there were footsteps. Moments later, a new hand rested on my back. </p>
<p>“Aria, Reid… you guys okay?” Morgan asked, his voice warm and soft against the chilling aftermath of what had just happened. I had no words – hell. I didn’t have an answer. Physically? Yeah, I supposed so. Mentally…</p>
<p>“We – we tried… we tried, really,” Spencer whispered; his hand tightened its hold on my skirt and I leaned just a hint closer. I sniffed, took a breath, and forced out, </p>
<p>“We just… we couldn’t –“ my words caught in my throat and I shook my head, keeping it pressed to Spencer’s arm as I took a deep breath. <i>Laundry, leather, coffee.</i> The soft scents settled deep in my lungs, pushing away the tang of blood, fighting back the nausea that swept over me again. </p>
<p>An arm wrapped around my back, easing me away from Spencer, and for just a heartbeat I tried to pull away. I didn’t want to leave the comfort he gave me. The person who was guiding me back tightened their hold and I finally let them guide me back as I opened my eyes. Hotch was looking down at me, his dark eyes softer than I’d ever seen them, nothing but fatherly warmth and concern in his gaze. </p>
<p>Wordlessly I turned and wrapped my arms tight around him. He hugged me tight as more tears fell. He kept me tucked to his side as he gently guided me back out of the bathroom. Morgan, an arm around Spencer, was right behind us. </p>
<p>As soon as we got outside, I paused and pulled out of Hotch’s hold. He stopped instantly and looked down at me in concern as I turned around. Spencer met my eyes, understanding the silent question I asked, and he gave a barely noticeable nod. </p>
<p>I rushed up to him and pulled him into a hug. He folded himself down around me, pulling me tight to his chest, clinging to me like I clung to him. It was probably only a minute that we stayed like that, but it felt like so much longer. The last couple of minutes were on repeat in my mind, like a terrible movie that just wouldn’t end. </p>
<p>But there, in Spencer’s arms, breathing in the soft smell of dark roast and his oak-and-cinnamon-sweet cologne, it wasn’t as overwhelming. I didn’t feel lost in a sea of helpless or numb, sickening heartache. I wasn’t drowning in guilt and second-guesses. </p>
<p>He kept me afloat, kept me from behind pulled under and lost to everything swirling around in my mind. He kept me from suffocating in the aftermath of what had just played out in front of us.</p>
<p>For just a minute, Spencer let me breathe. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Ever since Chula Vista, Spencer had been withdrawn. </p>
<p>I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him at the station – we’d spent almost an hour giving our statements to the detective and Hotch. As soon as we’d gotten on the plane, he’d retreated to the back and curled up by himself. </p>
<p>Before I could make my way to him, Hotch called me over to him instead. We settled on the couch as the rest of the team slipped off into their own little worlds. Morgan’s headphones went on, Emily and JJ instantly dove into the sudoku puzzle they’d been working on since last week, and Rossi hid himself behind a book. </p>
<p>Undoubtedly, they were all listening, but I appreciated the feigned privacy. </p>
<p>“I know you said you were okay,” Hotch began as I turned to face him. “But… I feel like that’s not quite true.”</p>
<p>For a couple moments, I thought about trying to insist I was. Honestly, I just didn’t have it in me to try and lie to Hotch. So, instead, I shook my head and whispered, “not really, no. I’m just… overwhelmed. And sad. And really, <i>really</i> tired.”</p>
<p>Hotch nodded and scooted closer to me, reaching out and resting a hand on my arm, giving a squeeze. “I appreciate you being sincere with me. I know what the two of you witnessed was disturbing and I wouldn’t expect you to be okay. When we get back, I’m going to be setting up six weeks of mandatory trauma counseling, with meetings twice a week. I think that, given all that’s happened recently, this is something that’ll really benefit you.”</p>
<p>Between Connor, my ever-growing phobia of chili, and now watching someone get killed right in front of me… yeah, therapy was long overdue. </p>
<p>“I think you’re right. Thank you, Hotch. For… just, always being understanding. With everything I’ve thrown at you, you’re always ready to help me out,” I told him softly, bringing tears to my own eyes. </p>
<p>“I always will be,” he promised, voice soft enough I doubted the other ears tuning into talk could hear. Well, Rossi and his mob-trained ears probably could. “If you ever feel overwhelmed, or weighed down, please know that you can always come to me. I don’t want you feeling alone with all of this.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Hotch. Really,” I said with a soft smile, shifting forward to pull him into a tight hug. He squeezed me back, rubbing my arms gently as we separated. “I promise you’ll be the first person I bother if I need to.” </p>
<p>Chuckling, he gave my arm a final squeeze as he stood up. “That’s all I ask. Try and get some sleep.”</p>
<p>He settled into the seat across from Rossi, already starting on paperwork by the time I passed by him. I went to the mini bar at the back of the jet and made two cups of herbal tea, took a steadying breath, and then turned to join Spencer. </p>
<p>When I sat the cup of tea in front of him, he looked up briefly and gave a smile so small it didn’t even reach his eyes. My heart constricted, and I almost thought about sitting beside him and pulling him into a hug. </p>
<p>He’d snapped at JJ when she tried to have the same talk with him that Hotch just had with me. We all processed trauma differently, and I could see now that Spencer was a lot different with how he coped than I was. While I needed touch and kind words, he needed solitude and silence.</p>
<p>Pestering him wasn’t something I wanted to do, but I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone, just like Hotch had reassured me. Just like Spencer and I had reassured each other in the wake of what Mr. Vaughn had done. </p>
<p>So instead of sitting with him and possibly making him feel crowded, I took a step back. He looked up at me for another moment, nodded, and then turned to stare out the window at the California sun setting around us. </p>
<p>When we got back, maybe I’d try and tell him some facts he didn’t know. There had to be <i>some</i> things he wasn’t familiar with. And, maybe we could reschedule our date. Even if neither of us felt up for one, maybe we could still just sit together at the park by his apartment and he could teach me about all the trees we could spot. </p>
<p>Maybe I’d still try and call him pretty. </p>
<p>Maybe that would get his smile back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy last Monday of 2020! </p>
<p>What a crazy twelve months it's been. This year has been hellacious for us, but one good thing that's come out of it has been posting this story, and getting to know all of you! Honestly I'm about as sentimental as Hotch on a good day, so I won't get all sappy, but I want to thank you guys SO much for all the love you've given the story since it started, and I hope you stick around to see how it plays out!</p>
<p>This was a hard chapter! The end of the episode always gets me, my heart breaks for Spencer! What did you think of Aria and Spencer with Jack and Lindsey? How do you think Aria handled the case? I can't wait to hear your thoughts!</p>
<p>Again, thank you all for reading, and for commenting! I love reading what you have to say and your support keeps me motivated! I hope you guys have a great week, and I'll see you next year!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Unarmed, Unchained</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Follows along with episode 3x14 - Damaged</i>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/639409643208196096/chapter-35-is-up">Aria's Outfit</a>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Chester Hardwick</i>.</p><p>Just the name on the paper sent chills down my spine. Almost fifteen years ago I’d watched one of the most terrifying modern-day serial killers get arrested, and in twelve hours, I’d be at his prison to interview him on death row. </p><p>Hotch, being the overprotective man he was, had insisted dozens of times I didn’t need to go. Me, being the stubborn student <i>I</i> was, couldn’t pass up what might be a once-in-a-career opportunity. Getting to question Chester wasn’t just a chance to tick off a few requirements for my profiling classes (although, truth be told, it was a big bonus), but it’d also help us build up the knowledge base for future profilers. </p><p>The Criminal Personality Research Project was one of the many ways the BAU gathered the tactics, knowledge, and tricks used for profiling. The more knowledge and understanding of serial killers that we gathered, the better the team – and future members – could become. </p><p>So, if that meant being a little uncomfortable for a few hours, so be it. </p><p>That’s what I kept in mind as Hotch slid picture after picture across the table of the jet. Each one that passed seemed to look more and more like me. Brunette, most with brown or hazel eyes, many dressed in flouncy skirts and heels. Essentially, twenty-three different shades of Aria, it seemed. </p><p>“His last victim was Sheila O’Neil, and that’s who I’d like to focus on,” Hotch told Spencer and I, jarring me out of my thoughts. At Sheila’s picture, for just a heartbeat I swore it was me. Blinking quickly, I tore my eyes away and gave my mind a break. When I looked back, thankfully a different face was staring up at me. </p><p>Spencer, at my side, caught the movement but he didn’t say anything. Normally, I knew he’d be offering up facts about the victim, or just telling me some facts about airplanes that would take my mind off what I didn’t want to focus on. His silence just made me feel a little worse. Ever since Chula Vista, Spencer hadn’t been himself. He was still kind, and sweet, and ever the gentleman with me, but he’d withdrawn.</p><p>He’d hardly given me any facts over the last week, he hadn’t spoken a lick of Italian <i>or</i> Russian, and hadn’t even asked for a ride to work. According to Morgan, on the last case I’d had to skip out on, he’d barely read two books the entire time. Normally, the scruffy genius knocked out ten in a day. The only thing that’d been consistent was his obsession with sugary coffee; he was up to at least three cups a day, that I saw. </p><p>Penelope, Emily, <i>and</i> JJ all told me I didn’t need to be as worried as I was, that this was just another side of Spencer, this is how he was… I couldn’t let it go. Because that’s <i>not</i> how Spencer was. Not with <i>me</i>. Not saying I was special to him (regardless of the fact that, up until recently, I’d convinced myself I was…), but he was different with me. He didn’t have up all the walls, he didn’t shy away or hide himself from me. </p><p>Right now, unfortunately, wasn’t the time to get into all this. I hadn’t noticed Hotch had asked me a question until he prompted a little more firmly, “Aria?”</p><p>My eyes snapped to him and I blinked quickly, trying to recall if I’d caught any of what he’d been saying. Nope, nothing. He didn’t look annoyed at my distractedness, though. He gave me a small smile and repeated, </p><p>“I asked if you had anything you wanted to add to the profile we went over in Quantico.”</p><p>Ah, right. My assignment for the interview. We were building up Chester’s past and I’d been tasked with using my almost-completed psych degree to come up with some theories behind the ‘<i>why</i>’ of his M.O. </p><p>“I’ve got a few things I’m still fleshing out,” I prefaced, pulling out my trusty profiling notebook and flipping through to what I’d spent all week scribbling about. “The one thing that really stuck out to me were Chester’s parents.”</p><p>Hotch propped his elbows on the table, folding his hands under his chin as he studied me. “Why is that? We don’t know much about them.”</p><p>“No,” I agreed, now pulling out a file from the box on the floor. Yeah, Chester Hardwick had an entire <i>box</i> of papers. “But, I read over the interviews you and Gideon did with his mother, just after he was first arrested. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but I know Gideon had theories that there might’ve been more contributing to her mental illness. I think he was right. From what I read on the report you did, I mean, I can’t fully diagnose, but it seems pretty likely she was an undifferentiated schizophrenic.”</p><p>Hotch had been nodding along as I spoke – smiling a bit at the mention of his and Gideon’s work – and when I finished the smile grew a bit more. He went to give me his own opinions, but it was Spencer that spoke up first. </p><p>“My mother is schizophrenic,” he told me, absolutely blindsiding me with that little fact and giving me no time to recover. “I would agree with that assumption. She certainly displays a lot of the mannerisms that coincide with a diagnosis, and it would’ve had a serious impact on Chester’s overall development. I take it that’s where this is going.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” I managed, staring up at him for a moment before my thoughts gathered again. Pushing his revelation aside – for now – I flipped through my notebook and paused on the next bit I’d worked out. “Pairing all of that with his father’s PTSD, it’s safe to say that their psychological disorders weighed heavily on Chester. Not only did he have to watch them fight their own mental battles every day, they were abusive to him, and probably to each other. Violence became a natural expression of love for Chester.”</p><p>“It’s what was at the heart of his killings,” Hotch concluded, and I nodded eagerly, pleased he was on the same brainwave I was. “That’s a very solid theory. Keep expanding on that, and come up with a couple of questions for us to ask him tomorrow in relation to it.”</p><p>To Hotch’s surprise, I flipped to the next page, turned my notebook around, and slid it across to him. “I’ve got a few already.” Pleased smile on his face, Hotch began to skim what I’d come up with. As he did, I asked idly, “by <i>we</i>, you mean you and Spencer, don’t you?”</p><p>Though he kept his head tilted down, Hotch’s eyes flicked up to me briefly. Again, though, it was the man beside me that offered an answer. </p><p>“You’re nearly identical to Chester’s victims. You match his M.O., and it will already be risky to simply have you in the same room as him,” Spencer explained matter-of-factly. His point-blank statements sent an automatic shiver down my spine. “He’s been in isolation for several years, and it will already be extremely stimulating for him to be interviewed by the FBI, let alone by someone who looks like his preferred victim.”</p><p>For a couple moments, I truly had nothing to say. Spencer, of course, was right. And I hated that he was. I couldn’t deny the fear that was slowly creeping into my mind, or the paranoia that something would go wrong tomorrow. Some of our regular interviews didn’t go as planned. Heck, the interrogation with Jonny McHale had been a disaster, come to think about it. The man had broken out of the cuffs bolting him to the table. It was a lucky thing there were half a dozen agents in the room, and that Jonny wasn’t a particularly vicious killer. </p><p>If Chester broke out of <i>his</i> restraints with just the three of us, with <i>me</i> in his reach… I was trying really hard to keep those thoughts out of my head. </p><p>“Reid’s correct,” Hotch told me. Yeah, trust me, I knew that. He <i>always</i> was. “I agreed to bring you along because I know how useful this experience will be with your training, but I’m still not happy about it. I’d like you to leave the talking to us, and focus on studying our interview process, and building onto your psychological evaluation.”</p><p>The natural instinct to argue was almost overwhelming, but I swallowed it down and just gave him an agreeing nod. “Aye aye, Captain Hotch.”</p><p>Giving me a mildly amused glance, he slid my notebook back and looked between Spencer and I. “We’ll be landing in about half an hour, and then driving to the hotel just a mile or so from the prison. It’ll be a late night, and we have an early morning, so take the time right now to finish up what you can.”</p><p>At that, Spencer was up out of his seat and heading for what was at least the second cup of coffee just on our flight alone. Something was bugging him, and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t me. Now I was beginning to worry I’d somehow come off insensitive when I’d brought up Chester’s mom being schizophrenic. Had I made it seem like that’s what was the root of Chester’s evil? Had Spencer taken it as an unintentional slight to his mom?</p><p>With how he’d walked off just now, I was worried he had. Hotch had already settled into his own paperwork, so I slipped out of the seat and hurried down the aisle after the sullen doctor. If I’d messed something up or upset him, I had to fix it. </p><p>At first I didn’t think Spencer realized I was there. When I paused at his side, watching him fix his coffee, he didn’t look up. But after pouring his drink, he shuffled to the side and made room for me, saying, </p><p>“I’m sorry, let me get out of your way.”</p><p>My heart twisted just a bit more at his casual tone. He wasn’t genuinely talking with me, it was more just an automatic answer. Though I did step closer, I didn’t reach for a cup. “You’re not in my way. I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were alright.”</p><p>He was quiet for another couple moments, like he was processing what I’d said. When he sat the coffee pot down, he turned to frown at me. “Why wouldn’t I be?”</p><p>“You’ve just seemed a little quiet today. And the last few days. I just wanted to check on you.”</p><p>Spencer bobbed his head, took a sip of his coffee, and simply told me, “I’m alright. Thanks for checking.”</p><p>Ouch, that hurt. The basic response and the tone he used felt more like a dismissal than a genuine answer. It at least proved my theory: something was definitely wrong. He’d <i>never</i> acted like this with me. Even when we’d first met, he’d never just told me something to brush me off. </p><p>I was pleased to say that I knew Spencer well enough to know he wouldn’t take well to prying. If he said he was fine, just like Hotch, it meant he didn’t want to talk about what was really bothering him. So, instead, I tried to switch gears. </p><p>“I’m sorry if what I said earlier came off as insensitive,” I began, which got his brows furrowing and prompted me to explain a little further. “I had no idea your mom was schizophrenic, and I didn’t mean to imply –“</p><p>“It’s alright,” he interrupted, another very un-Spencer-like move. Yeah, he constantly spoke over other people, but it was always unintentional. It was just when he got carried away rambling on about some random fact, not to get me to stop talking. </p><p>Alright, two strikes in the conversation department. Come on, I could still save this! I gave him a quick nod, and then tried to segue a little more. I asked him the first thing that’d come to mind, and only after I asked it did I realize how selfish it seemed. </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me she was?”</p><p>I knew that was strike three before Spencer even spoke, and I wished I could take back my words instantly. <i>Why didn’t you tell me</i>… how rude was that? What obligation did Spencer have to say anything to me about <i>his</i> mom? I’d expected a sharp reply just like that, but what he said hit me even deeper. </p><p>“Because I didn’t want you looking at me like that.”</p><p>All my thoughts came to a halt and I stared up at him, uncomprehending for several moments. Finally managing a couple blinks, I furrowed my brow and asked him softly, “like <i>what</i>?”</p><p>“Like you pity me.”</p><p>My heart fell into my stomach. His words struck me hard, right at my core, and I was at a complete loss for words. Guilt and embarrassment crept over me and I folded my hands to my chest, stepping aside to let Spencer pass wordlessly back to his seat. </p><p>Is that what I’d been doing? I… maybe? I hadn’t meant to, but I knew too well that my expressions sometimes had a mind of their own. The faces I accidentally pulled before I could stop myself got me into trouble countless times; had it just happened again?</p><p>Okay, I had to make this right. I didn’t want Spencer thinking I <i>pitied</i> him, because I didn’t. When I turned back to follow him, though, my heart fell a little further. He’d scooped up his things and grabbed his bag, and he’d moved to sit a couple rows back from where we’d been gathered.</p><p>He wanted to be left alone. Or, more accurately, it seemed he wanted <i>me</i> to leave him alone. Tears crept into my eyes and I took another couple moments at the back of the jet to push my rising emotions back down. </p><p>It was just exhaustion. That’s all it was. We were all just over tired and at the end of a long day. Spencer and Hotch had just gotten back from a case and I’d had a full day of classes, followed by therapy that ran late. Then, we left Quantico late thanks to weather delays, and now we still had at least another ninety minutes before we’d get to the hotel. </p><p>So, instead of letting myself dwell on the fact Spencer didn’t want to talk to me – let alone even <i>sit</i> by me – I put myself back into my notebook. We’d get some rest, get this interview over with, and then I could fix whatever had started breaking in Chula Vista. </p><p>--</p><p>No sooner had I fallen asleep than I was being startled awake by the buzzing of my phone. Instantly on red-alert, I shot up and threw my hand out, patting around for the noise culprit while simultaneously sweeping the hotel room to be sure the sound that had woken me wasn’t actually from a killer. </p><p>Once I realized that no, I <i>wasn’t</i> about to be murdered in the Motel 6, I let out a shaky breath and managed to find my phone on the bedside table. Penelope’s name flashed on my screen, just below the time. </p><p>7:37am. </p><p>We’d gotten in late, and because I’d been just a <i>little</i> paranoid about being killed in a shady motel (I had my internship to thank for that perfectly rational fear) I’d had a hard time falling asleep. At least managed to scrape together a solid three hours of sleep. Awesome. Groaning, I flopped back onto the bed and stifled a yawn as I answered my best friend with a weary, </p><p>“H’lo?”</p><p>“Aria <i>ohmygosh</i> I need you! I am having a nervous breakdown! You need – I need you here, like <i>ASAP</i>, because I’m about to lose my mind!”</p><p>Yep, that was my best friend alright. Stifling the snort of amusement, I draped an arm over my face and gently reminded her, “well, seeing as I’m in Connecticut, I don’t think that’s gonna happen right now.” She gave a huge <i>AWWW</i> and I heard her actually collapse onto her couch. “Why? What’s got you panicked before 8am?”</p><p>“Oh, just my entire life caving in around me,” she whined, and instantly I told her, </p><p>“I’m gonna need more than that.”</p><p>With Penelope, life-caving events could be anything from ALDI’s being out of her favorite ice cream to literally panicking about impending apocalypses. Apparently, we were overdue for a world-wide catastrophe, and it was something she spent way too much time thinking about. </p><p>“So, last night, Kevin came over,” she began. Though I was thankful this wasn’t another conspiracy theory about Mayans predicting the end of the world, I couldn’t help but point out, </p><p>“He’s been over a lot for someone you insist you’re not dating,” I pointed out, getting a scoff from my best friend. “What? He’s been by like, every night for the last two weeks.” </p><p>“We’re just – we’re friends with benefits,” she argued; I rolled my eyes. “<i>Anyways</i>, so, we were showering together -”</p><p>“Penny, c’mon, it’s not even noon and you’re already getting too spicy for me.”</p><p>“Oh shut up,” she teased as I stifled my snickering. “<i>So</i>, there was this crazy knocking on my door, right? I get out and lo and behold, guess who was there?”</p><p>Okay, curiosity pushed my exhaustion aside, and I asked quickly, “who?”</p><p>“<i>David Rossi</i>.”</p><p>With a gasp, I busted out laughing, dropping my phone to my pillow as I clapped a hand over my mouth, not wanting to wake Spencer and Hotch in the room beside me. Penelope immediately chastised me but I couldn’t help it. Oh my <i>god</i>. </p><p>“<i>Rossi</i> was at your house? Oh no, don’t tell me –”</p><p>“Kevin came out of the shower,” she groaned, and I laughed even harder. “<i>Barely</i> covered in a towel. And all of us were just like, standing there, staring at – <i>Aria quit laughing</i>!”</p><p>“I’m sorry –” I snorted, burying my face in my hands, trying to compose myself. “I just – oh god. That’s terrible, I know, but Rossi saw Kevin Lynch in a <i>towel</i> –“</p><p>Penelope pouted on the other end, whining out, “<i>Aria</i>, it’s not funny! I’m gonna lose my job! I’m going to – he'll arrest me! For… for <i>something</i>, I don’t know what exactly, but he’ll -”</p><p>“Pen, no,” I snickered, wiping the tears from my eyes and shaking my head. “Look. Rossi was like the whole reason the rules were invented, okay? He’s not gonna care. Like, at all. It was after hours, in your own home, and he can’t even really prove that anything was happening.”</p><p>“But what if he tells Hotch, or-or Strauss, or –” she cut off, and I heard Emily’s familiar voice on the other end. </p><p>“Tell Emi hi!” I chirped; Penelope snorted, but passed along my greeting. I heard Emily call <i>hi, Aria!</i> on the other end and grinned to myself, stifling another yawn. After a few moments of muffled discussion, my best friend sighed, </p><p>“My brilliant mind is needed elsewhere, apparently. Thanks for letting me panic with you. And if I get fired, please adopt me and take full financial responsibility –“</p><p>“<i>Penelope</i>, you’re not getting fired. Besides, you’re the one who has to support <i>me</i>.”</p><p>There was a pause, and then Penelope sighed, “okay. We’ll argue about that later. Be safe today, okay?”</p><p>“I will be, I promise,” I told her, smiling hearing her blow me a kiss through the phone. “Love you, Penny G.”</p><p>“Love you more, honeybee.” </p><p>After hanging up, I really contemplated going back to sleep. We didn’t have to be at the prison until 9, and we were just minutes away. I was so tired… If I’d laid in bed any longer, honestly, I would’ve passed out again. But then Penelope sent me a frantic text about how losing her job would make the impending end of the world a lot harder to handle, and my thoughts of sleep disappeared. </p><p>Count on my best friend to keep me on my toes from four hundred miles away. </p><p>--</p><p>Being the naïve soul I was, I’d assumed that sleep would put everyone in a better mood, and that today would’ve been better than yesterday. So far, I was 0-and-2 on that. In the few hours we’d been apart, both men with me had just gotten grumpier and quieter. </p><p>Hotch, for reasons unknown, was out for blood. He tore into the hotel receptionist while we were checking out, and now he was beating me out on the aggressive driving front. Spencer was somehow more morose and withdrawn than he’d been just a couple hours ago. </p><p>Between the two of them, this was shaping up to be a chaotically stressful day. And that was <i>without</i> the serial killer we’d be dealing with soon. Or, at least, <i>hopefully</i> soon. The guards at the prison had other ideas and no regard for keeping schedules. </p><p>“We have a very important, time-sensitive interview to conduct,” Hotch snapped at the guard, who was giving him a blank, unconcerned stare. “The screening is unnecessary, and it’ll delay us by at least an hour –“</p><p>“Well, I don’t see the pre-approval to bypass the screening. Unless we have that accommodation, everyone that comes by to speak with an inmate has to go through the same process, sir –“</p><p>“It’s <i>Agent</i> Hotchner.”</p><p>Yikes, pulling out the official titles… this wasn’t shaping up well. I checked my phone for the time; just past eleven A.M. We’d been sent to the wrong prison, and trying to get across town in the midday traffic had held us up longer than we’d wanted. Our already-short time with Chester was whittling down dangerously low. After a brief back-and-forth, Hotch finally accepted that we’d need to do the full screening, and the guard let us into the lobby to wait. </p><p>Once the guard had gone off to get things ready, I subtly tugged Hotch aside. Instantly, the irritation was gone and fatherly concern settled over his face. Before I could say anything he started, “if you’re having second thoughts, you can take the car and find somewhere to wait –“</p><p>“No. I’m fine,” I only partially lied. I was just uneasy, okay? I felt like <i>anyone</i> who was about to sit down with a serial killer would be, so that didn’t matter right now. “The real question is, are <i>you</i> okay?”</p><p>Micro expressions weren’t a specialty of mine, but reading Aaron Hotchner’s face certainly was. In a heartbeat, a flicker of genuine sadness surfaced, and just as quickly he shoved it down. “I’m alright. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“Well, that totally unconvincing answer aside, you’re much more surly than normal.” </p><p>Hotch’s frown deepened. “I’m not surly.”</p><p>“Alright, lie number two. You wanna go for a solid three, or will you tell me what’s wrong?” I asked, raising a brow. Hotch pressed his lips together. </p><p>“Nothing’s wrong.”</p><p>“Three strikes,” I <i>tsk</i>’d, shaking my head. “And in such little time. It’s impressive, honestly.”</p><p>Before he could get on me for being a smartass – or before I could press him more – the guards finally arrived to lead us back. We dropped off our guns and went through the security check, and by the time the debriefing was done, it was nearing 2:30. </p><p>By now, Hotch was just a few degrees away from hitting a full-on seething boil. Whether it was the tedious security measures, the grumpy guards, or the fact we were running out of time with Chester, I really couldn’t say. At any rate, he was just about ready to rip someone in half by the time we got to the Warden’s office. Even his silent pacing behind us radiated his irritation.</p><p>Spencer and I had settled in the chairs in front of the desk, both picking at the knickknacks in front of us. He’d barely said five words to me today, and honestly I’d been purposefully quiet with him too. The thought of saying the wrong thing and pushing him further away from me had been at the front of my mind. </p><p>Now, though, I just wanted to talk to him. I watched him pluck up a snow globe, spinning it slowly between his slim fingers as he stared down at it with an unreadable expression. Again, another reminder that he wasn’t fully okay. </p><p>“Tell me something about those,” I asked him after a couple moments. When Spencer looked over at my request, seeming a little confused, I pointed to the toy in his hand. As expected, instead of lighting up and launching into a whirlwind of facts, he simply told me, </p><p>“Most snow globes contain ethylene glycol, which keeps them from freezing in colder temperatures.”</p><p>My heart tightened at his dismissive answer. The last time he’d been so succinct with me had been back during my first couple of weeks with the team. Back before he was one of my closest friends, before I’d gotten him to trust me and to believe I wanted him to be himself around me. </p><p>Chula Vista had pushed Spencer back into his shell, and I’d be pulling him right back out. </p><p>“That’s antifreeze, right?” I asked, reaching out for the globe. He nodded, letting me take it, watching as I swished it around. Trying to bite back my giggles, I asked with the straightest face I could muster, “so, I <i>shouldn’t</i> drink snow globe water?” </p><p>Hotch stopped his pacing and looked down at me in mild alarm. “I would certainly hope that’s not the only reason you wouldn’t.”</p><p>“Probably not,” I admitted; Spencer snatched the globe back almost instantly and I turned to look at him. “What?! I mean I’m not gonna crack one open with lunch or anything. I’m just saying, it <i>looks</i> good.”</p><p>And, for some reason, <i>that</i> was what drew out the Spencer Reid I’d been missing. He sat the globe aside and, for the first time in way too long, his eyes brightened and he sat up a little straighter. It felt like the tension from last night, and the heaviness from the last few days slid off his shoulders as he reported eagerly, </p><p>“That actually makes sense. It’s very similar to what we call ‘<i>cute aggression</i>’, which is the urge to squeeze or bite things we see as ‘adorable’.”</p><p><i>Is that why you always look delicious to me</i>? I thought to myself. </p><p>“What was that?” Spencer asked, cocking his head to the side as he stared down at me. </p><p>Had… oh my god, had I just said that out loud!? <i>Aria, seriously</i>!? Oh my god! Here I was worried Penelope would give away my crush, and now I’d just essentially told Spencer I wanted to bite him because he was cute. <i>Weird AND embarrassing. Way to go</i>.</p><p>“Um, what?” I feigned, trying to figure out what he’d heard. <i>Smooth.</i> Spencer furrowed his brows at my dodgy answer and elaborated, </p><p>“You were asking why something looked delicious, but I didn’t quite catch –“</p><p>Hotch’s ringing phone nearly got me to jump out of my chair, which in turn made Spencer give a start. <i>Saved by the ringtone</i>! He thankfully stopped his question and I nearly melted into my chair as Hotch answered the call. </p><p>“Yeah JJ… What?... No, it’s just… it’s a personal matter...” </p><p>Spencer and I glanced back to him, but the look from our boss had us turning right back around. We met each other’s eyes; he gave me an <i>oops</i> face and I returned with a quick, agreeing smile. The snow globe talk had seemed to put me back into Spencer’s comfort zone, and honestly I had no words to describe how relieved I was to just share a secret smile with him again.   </p><p>“Everything okay?” I asked Hotch, tipping my head back to look up at him as he hung up and came to stand with Spencer and I. The look he gave me told me to drop it and instead he segued with, </p><p>“Yes, it’s fine. You have your notes, correct?” </p><p>“Sure do,” I told him, accepting his subject-change as I tugged my notebook out and patted the cover. He gave a curt nod and said, </p><p>“Very good. Remember, today I want you focusing on the techniques Reid and I display, and the methods you’ve learned in class, but also -”</p><p>“How I’d apply them in my own way. I can’t just copy what I see, I need to make it my own and adapt it to my own style,” I finished, parroting back what he’d been repeating to me the whole week. Hotch stared down at me, an unreadable expression on his face, and I felt my confidence start to falter just a bit. I knew he really hadn’t been happy with bringing me... “I’ll behave. I’ll let you and Spencer do the talking, and I won’t get in the way –”</p><p>“No, it’s not that. It’s just – it’s fine.”</p><p>Wow, just as unconvincing as the last few times he’d said that today. Thankfully, Spencer was on my side with this. Giddiness at being on <i>Spencer’s side</i> pushed aside, I shared a quick glance with the scruffy man at my side. </p><p>“We can do this interview another time,” Spencer offered; Hotch instantly shook his head. </p><p>“He’s scheduled to be executed next week, and this will be very beneficial for Aria’s training.”</p><p>“I can take the lead,” he tried again, and now Hotch shot <i>him</i> a look to drop it as the door opened. He mouthed <i>sorry</i> to our boss and I gave him a reassuring smile. Hotch clearly wasn’t having a good day, and whatever the call from JJ had been about had just made it worse. Which, undoubtedly, meant it had been about Haley. </p><p>“Agent Hotchner?” a short, skinny man in a suit asked, shutting the door behind him. Hotch confirmed and shook the man’s hand. As he stepped forward, Spencer and I got to our feet. “You must be Dr. Reid –“ Spencer held up a hand in greeting and the man turned to me. “And Miss DiMaggio.” We shook hands as I gave him a warm smile. “I’m Abner Merriam, assistant warden. You’re in to see our infamous inmate Hardwick?”</p><p>“We are. He agreed to meet with us for our Criminal Personality Research Project,” I confirmed with a nod as Spencer added,</p><p>“It’ll be a fascinating case to study and write up.”</p><p>“I’ve read some of your studies in police journals,” Mr. Merriam told him. My heart skipped a beat seeing an honest, surprised smile come over Spencer’s face. I liked seeing him recognized and appreciated for his work, and it didn’t happen often enough. “Serial killers are a sort of hobby of mine. Chester’s the only one I’ve met in person, but I bet you’ve met quite a few -”</p><p>As Spencer took a breath, ready to launch off into what would undoubtedly be a wild discussion, Hotch cleared his throat. </p><p>“Sir, we’d very much like to get started as soon as we can, as we’re already running behind schedule.” </p><p>The Warden nodded, realizing he’d gone off-task. As he turned to fish out some keys from the desk, I glanced up to Hotch, who had a dark scowl settled over his face. I nudged him with my elbow and gave him a comforting smile. Though the scowl lightened a bit, it didn’t go away. </p><p>“Now, we don’t really have an interrogation facility, but I do have a small room you could use. You’re not armed, are you?” he asked, glancing at the three of us. Spencer and I shook our heads as Hotch bit out,</p><p>“We secured our weapons before we came inside. It’s not our first time in a prison.”</p><p>Mr. Merriam, seeming unphased by Hotch’s sharp attitude, chuckled and agreed, “no, no. I supposed that’s true.” As he passed by to open the door, his clapped his hand onto Hotch’s shoulder and gave a playful squeeze. Hotch’s lips twitched in irritation and before he could snap, I reached out and gave his hand a subtle squeeze. </p><p>Whatever JJ had called for was really getting to him. </p><p>Thankfully, he gave my hand a squeeze in return before he pulled away. Oblivious to the tension, Mr. Merriam continued on, “I’ll admit, I was surprised to hear Chester reached out to your team.”</p><p>“And why’s that?” Hotch growled; I elbowed him again. </p><p>Mr. Merriam paused and looked back at us, as he said, “Chester Hardwick? He doesn’t really talk. Not to anyone. Hasn’t spoken about his crimes to anyone in all these years.”</p><p>Hotch led us out after the assistant warden, and I fell into step next to Spencer as he grabbed the box of Chester’s files. Apprehension shivered down my spine, the lingering fear at what we were about to do creeping back into my mind. Why had Chester decided <i>now</i> that he wanted to talk with the FBI? </p><p>As I let the concerning possibilities start to run through my mind, I followed Hotch and Mr. Merriam into the room. It was essentially just a small, cement square with a plastic table, a few chairs, and two small, barred windows. This was nothing like what we had in Quantico… hell, the setup in California with Jonny had been way more secure, and he’d snapped those cuffs like a twig…</p><p>“The door will of course be locked from the outside,” Mr. Merriam explained, and reached up to point to a small button beside it. “And this sounds audibly, as well as triggers flashing lights to signal the guards when you’re finished.”</p><p>Locked inside a tiny room that wasn’t built for interrogations, with a serial killer, totally unarmed. I suppressed a shiver and took a settling breath. </p><p>Spencer had joined me at my side again, stepping up to the table to set down the box as he asked softly, “are you okay?”</p><p>There went those butterflies, running rampant, totally not caring about the place or the situation at hand. Only made worse because it was the first time since Chula Vista that he’d spoken so gently to me. I gave him a quick nod as I started helping him pull the files out, dismissing, “yeah, yeah. I’m just… a little cold.”</p><p>Well, that was as convincing as Hotch had been earlier. Spencer seemed to understand, thankfully, because though he nodded in acceptance of my answer, he promised,</p><p>“Hotch and I are in here with you. I know it’s going to be difficult for you to be in here with Chester, but you won’t be alone.”</p><p>His sweet words settled over the panic that I was trying to keep pushed down, and I turned to smile up at him. I’d wanted to say something back, but suddenly Mr. Merriam was directly behind me, looking down over my shoulder. </p><p>“Are these the crime scene photos?” he asked excitedly, taking one of the files from my hand and beginning to flip through it. </p><p>“Uh, yeah, some of them,” I said uncertainly, and then caught the look of absolute exasperation on Hotch’s face as he watched it happen. Uh-oh. </p><p>Mr. Merriam gave a heavy sigh, pausing on one particularly gruesome photo of a victim. “God… I knew what he did, of course, but I, you know… I never saw the victims like <i>this</i>. Twenty-three people –“</p><p>Hotch had them out of his hands before I even noticed he’d come over to us. He instantly began laying them out like I’d planned to as he said curtly,</p><p>“Paying attention to the photos will put an importance on them. We want him to do that with whatever <i>he</i> feels is important.”</p><p>I slowly inched back around the table to stand at Spencer’s side. “Is it just me, or is Hotch two seconds from punching him in the face?”</p><p>A smile played over his lips – not that I’d been staring at them – and he looked down to catch my eye in agreement. I went to tease a little more when the jingle of keys and cuffs behind us stopped me. </p><p>Chester was here. </p><p>I turned as the door open and backed up on instinct as Chester was led inside. Up until that very moment, I hadn’t fully accepted the scenario I was walking into. Now, though, the realization was starting to dawn on me. As I shifted back a little more I bumped into Spencer’s arm. He rested a subtle hand on my back to steady me and I leaned into his touch just a hint.</p><p>Immediately, Chester’s eyes settled on me, and the hint of a smirk played over his lips. Fear sparked in my chest so powerfully it took my breath away; I fought to keep my face completely calm. His eyes swept over me briefly before he met my gaze once again, not looking away until one of the guards escorting him asked, </p><p>“Chains left on, right?” </p><p>Chester turned to stare Hotch down. Neither man blinked, neither even moved. Chester was feeling out Hotch’s dominance, and Hotch wasn’t backing down at all. Finally, Spencer cleared his throat and nodded, beginning to say, “yeah, that’s probably a good -” </p><p>“No, that won’t be necessary.”</p><p>Everyone – Chester included – stared at Hotch as his words sunk in. He was kidding, right? He had to be kidding. Unchaining a psychopathic serial killer that was locked in the room with us? While we were <i>unarmed</i>?</p><p>“It won’t?” I asked Hotch, trying to convey all of my <i>please tell me I heard you wrong</i> thoughts to him since he hadn’t looked away from the man he was staring down.  </p><p>“No. We’re just going to talk, right Chester?” Hotch asked coolly. Chester held his stare for another few moments before he gave a slow smile. </p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>As the chains came off, I inched even closer to Spencer. The hand on my back gently nudged me forward towards a chair, and I sank down slowly. At the movement, Chester turned his attention back to me. His hard, blue eyes fixed me to my seat, and it took all my inner strength to calmly look away and grab my notebook. </p><p>Thankfully, Spencer settled into the chair next to me and began sorting through the files. I focused on the steady flick of his wrist and the <i>shff</i> of the papers as I fought to calm my erratic nerves. I was safe with Spencer and Hotch. Regardless of the fact that Chester Hardwick was ten feet away, uncuffed, staring me down… I would be safe here with them. </p><p>--</p><p>“Sit <i>down</i>,” Hotch ordered again. Chester, ignoring the demand, turned and made for the windows along the wall. Spencer stifled a sigh as I rubbed wearily at my aching temples. We’d been at this for over two hours, and so far we’d hardly gotten anywhere. </p><p>We’d gone over all our questions and had gotten either silence or lies in return. As frazzled as Spencer and I were, it was nothing compared to how agitated Hotch was. I couldn’t think of <i>any</i> time I’d seen him this upset, and with each moment that passed without progress, he just got worse.  </p><p>“I’d like this window open,” Chester finally decided, pausing beneath one and tipping his head back. I could feel Hotch’s jaw clenching from behind me. “I’ll answer any question you have, but only if this window is open.”</p><p>Curious, I looked back at Hotch. I could tell he was weighing the options: hold out and risk wasting our entire trip or give the psychopath a little control in the hopes of a few answers. </p><p>“Go ahead,” he finally relented; Chester was moving to push it open immediately. Hotch’s eyes flicked to Spencer and he prompted, “let’s start again. Reid?”</p><p>His hand flitted out, searching for the case file buried under the others. I dug it out and passed it over, giving him an encouraging smile as he took a breath and flipped it open. Spencer cleared his throat and asked Chester, </p><p>“You were born April 4th, 1950 –“</p><p>“Does my birthdate really matter?” Chester interrupted again, like he’d been doing all afternoon. I could’ve sworn I heard a growl from Hotch. Spencer’s lips pressed together, but Chester hadn’t pushed all <i>his</i> buttons yet, and he calmly explained,</p><p>“It’s customary for us to start at the beginning. We want to try to know as much as we can about your childhood.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to know. It was average,” Chester dismissed, folding his hands behind him. He was trying to hide the instinctive tensing of his shoulders, but the movement didn’t go unnoticed. <i>Another lie</i>. “I lived in a nice house on a quiet street. I ate cereal, I went to school, I watched cartoons –“</p><p>“I don’t have time for this,” Hotch snapped, getting a start out of me; I barely kept my pen from dropping to the table. Spencer and I shared a quick, bewildered glance as he kept going. “You didn’t live in a nice house on a quiet street. You grew up in a series of projects in East Bridgeport, each one worse than the last. You spent your teenage years peeping into your female neighbors’ windows and burglarizing their underwear drawers when you got the chance, and you set a hundred small fires for which you spent two years in juvenile detention.”</p><p>In the silence that followed, I looked back at Hotch, and then over to Chester. Feeling my hesitation, Spencer nudged my arm and gave me a nod to speak up. I knew I wasn’t supposed to speak, but at this point, maybe I could get some answers from him. What would it hurt?</p><p>“We’ve done extensive research, Mr. Hardwick, and we’ve talked to everyone you knew. Including your mother –“</p><p>“Good ole Jean?” Chester laughed, spinning around and instantly locking his powerful gaze onto me. My words cut off with a sharp breath and I fought to keep my face calm. “I bet she was a real treat to talk to, wasn’t she?”</p><p>Before the panic of his burning gaze could take over, a warm hand settled on my knee beneath the table. Spencer gave a squeeze, helping sooth the terror churning in me. Focusing on his comforting touch, I took a breath and answered, “at this point, lying to us is useless, and not a very good use of time for you.”</p><p>He smirked at me, having noticed the reaction he got out of me, but thankfully he turned back to the window. I all but melted into my seat as Spencer gave another squeeze. Hearing movement behind me, I looked back to check with Hotch. He had a burning fury in the gaze he had fixed on Chester’s back.</p><p>The glare only intensified when Chester asked me, </p><p>“What’s your name, doll?”</p><p>“I told you before, her name is Miss DiMaggio,” Hotch began, and Chester held up a hand, still keeping his back to us. </p><p>“I wasn’t asking <i>you</i>.”</p><p>Spencer’s hand on my knee thankfully didn’t leave. It was the only thing keeping me from bolting to the door in a blind panic. When I didn’t answer, Chester turned and settled his unnerving stare on me once again. “Well? Answer me, and I’ll answer you.”</p><p>“That isn’t what you just agreed to,” Hotch snapped, again on the verge of losing the little bit of cool he had left. If he did that, nothing would come from all we’d put into today. Besides, we’d already given him a little leverage, letting him open the window. He was expected to test the boundaries and my name was a harmless way to to keep him appeased. Despite my better judgement – and probably despite what Hotch was just about to say – I spoke up. </p><p>“Aria,” I said quickly; Chester’s smile widened. “I-I’m Aria.”</p><p>“Miss Aria DiMaggio,” he said slowly, enunciating each word and drawing out the vowels. He clicked his tongue and gave me a dark smile. “Very pretty. Well, <i>Aria</i>, what do you want to know, hm? Do you want me to tell you how my papa kicked me and Jean’s ass every single day? Huh? That the kinda thing you wanna hear?”</p><p>“If it’s true,” I told him simply, willing myself to hold his gaze, to keep from caving under the pressure of his stare. Chester didn’t speak for a few moments, studying me as he slowly folded his arms over his chest. He ran his tongue along his lower lip and then shrugged. </p><p>“You look awful young, awful new to all this, so let me give you some advice, doll. Nobody gives a damn about the truth.”</p><p>As he went quiet, a thick silence settled over the room. There was a weight in his dismissive answer to me, a realization that Chester wasn’t here to play twenty questions with the FBI. Again, I was brought back to the question I’d had since we’d shown up here: why had Chester decided to talk <i>now</i>?</p><p>“Temperature’s dropping,” he finally spoke, turning away from us and looking back up to the window. “It’s that time of year, isn’t it? Warm days, cold nights… what, we’re at the end of winter, aren’t we?</p><p>“Yeah,” Spencer said, sharing a confused glance with me – then Hotch – before he turned to Chester. He was trying all he could to coax more information from the guy. “It’ll be Spring soon –“</p><p>“But not for you.” Hotch’s harsh interjection got Chester back to face us again, and this time he took a step forward. It took all my self-restraint to keep from leaning away from him. He wasn’t focused on me, though. He was focused on Hotch, just behind me, staring him down.</p><p>“No…” he said lowly, narrowing his eyes just a hint. “Not for me.”</p><p>The two of them held each other’s glare, unblinking, both coiled and ready to snap. Thankfully, Spencer cleared his throat and spoke up, </p><p>“Let’s talk about the specifics of your last case again instead.” He rifled through a few papers and then pulled out a file, asking, “why did you choose Sheila O’Neil?”</p><p>“You gotta show me a picture. I don’t know their names,” Chester told him. And though he looked away from Hotch, he turned to me instead of Spencer. This time, his gaze slid down my body, and then slowly came back to my face. </p><p>The moment he gave a satisfied smile, Hotch was at my side. He angled himself in front of me, drawing Chester’s eyes back to him as he demanded, “is that what this is all about? Some chance to relive all of this?”</p><p>“Now, c’mon, Agent Hotchner. I thought you all wanted to hear the truth. And the truth is, they meant <i>nothing</i> to me. They were toys, a diversion, and from the moment I decided to kill them…” his eyes flicked to me for just a second, before going back to Hotch, “<i>they were dead</i>. They begged, they cried, they bargained, and it didn’t matter. Because <i>they</i> didn’t matter.”</p><p>Chester shifted forward, closer to the table, though he hadn’t looked away from Hotch. Now I <i>did</i> lean away, back up against Spencer’s arm. Even the hand still on my knee wouldn’t do much to keep me in my seat for much longer. My instincts were screaming at me to put as much distance between my myself and this unraveling psychopath as I could. </p><p>Hotch had shifted forward now, just feet from Chester, tensed like he was ready to start throwing hits. He was done playing games. When Chester’s eyes strayed to me again, Hotch growled, “why did you ask us here, Chester?”</p><p>“I wanted to smell the air,” he chuckled, shrugging and slowly backing for the wall, towards the window he’d opened. Spencer and I shared a puzzled glance as Hotch’s temper finally reached it’s boiling point. </p><p>“<i>What</i>?”</p><p>“They’ve got me on death watch,” Chester explained, heaving a sigh as he looked up to the window. “24-hour-a-day isolation is what I’ll be on until they take me to the death chamber. So, I wanted to smell the air one last time before I die. Thank you for giving me that.” </p><p>And then, he turned and settled his cold gaze on me once more. This time, there was no hesitancy in his gaze, or even the hint of a smirk. There was a cold, calculated hunger in the look he fixed me with. It was enough to nearly pull a whimper out of me. </p><p>Hotch felt my alarm skyrocket, and now he’d finally had enough.</p><p>“We’re done here. Let’s pack it up,” he snapped, turning away from Chester and stalking to the table. As relieved as I was to hear those words, I realized we really <i>had</i> just wasted a whole trip out here. Spencer realized it too, and though we both stood, he hesitated. </p><p>“Shouldn’t we at least -” he tried; Hotch wasn’t having it. </p><p>"No, no. We’re <i>done</i>. Aria, hit the button," he ordered as Spencer started to gather the files now too. I was up instantly, nearly losing my balance with how bad my legs were shaking. Chester's eyes stayed on me as I skirted past the table and hurried to the door, hitting the buzzer hard.</p><p>It sounded, but the lock didn't click open. </p><p>“The door, Aria," Hotch repeated, glancing back at me. I hit the button again and even tried the door, but it didn’t budge. No keys jingled on the other end, no guards came to let us out. Panic beginning to bubble under my skin as I met Hotch’s gaze over my shoulder. Something was wrong.</p><p>"It's 5:17," Chester said slowly. My heart, previously hammering in my chest, skittered to a painful stop. As I turned back around, I realized he still hadn’t looked away from me. Even with Hotch and Spencer just a few feet to his left, he was focused on <i>me</i>. </p><p>"Evening guard started at five o’clock. Guard staff's outside with the population. There won't be anyone to open that door for... at least 13 minutes,” Chester revealed, taking a slow step in my direction. </p><p>We were trapped inside the room, unarmed, with a serial killer. An <i>uncuffed</i> serial killer, who was looking at me like I was his last meal. Hotch and Spencer were both back behind the table; there was nothing between Chester and I.</p><p>He realized it the same moment I did, and his cheshire smile grew impossibly wider. Still holding my gaze, unblinking again, he reached out and grabbed a piece of paper off the table. For the first time, his eyes left me so he could look over the picture in his hands. </p><p>Sheila O’Neil was beaten, bloodied, and mangled. She was also just over five foot, brunette, and a senior in college. She was dead, and she had died at the hands of the man holding her picture. At the hands of the man that took another step towards me. </p><p>“I’ll give you one more truth, doll,” Chester chuckled, holding up the photo between us as he met my eyes once again. “It took me less than five to do <i>this</i>."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy first Monday of 2021!</p><p>I hope you all had a great new year! Who else is super excited the holidays are finally over?! I hope your year is off to a good start, and if not, hopefully today's chapter will push you in the right direction! I know we skipped an episode, but it really didn't add too much to the story for Aria. Plus, this is one of my favorite episodes of S3 (y'all already know why) and I've been SO excited to put this one out there! How do we feel about Aria's talk with Spencer on the plane? What about Hotch and his super-short temper? And... how about Chester Hardwick?? How do you think this is gonna play out for Aria? Let me know your thoughts!</p><p>Thank you for all the love and support, I can't tell you how much I love hearing from you guys! I'm so glad you're loving Aria and I can't wait for you to see what's about to go down in the next few chapters.... </p><p>Have a beautiful week, everyone!</p>
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<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Thirteen Minutes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <a href="https://recollins.tumblr.com/post/640066882728345600/chapter-36-is-up">Aria &amp; Spencer</a>
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    <p>For almost five seconds none of us moved, none of us spoke. All of us were paused, waiting for the next move. The only sounds I could hear was my own heart slamming painfully against my chest, desperate to break free and run off, just like I wanted to. </p><p>Those few moments took hours in my mind, each tick of the clock driving home the terror rising up within me. I was trapped up against the wall, nowhere to go, at the mercy of a man ready to rip my life away with his bare hands. </p><p>Just like Connor had tried to do. </p><p>Great, because <i>that</i> was exactly what I needed to think about at a time like this!</p><p>To make matters worse – because apparently my mind just wanted to torture me – my breath caught in my throat and for a terrifying moment I couldn’t breathe. A wave of dizziness swept over me and my vision began to tunnel. My lungs gave a painful twinge and though I fought to take a breath my body wasn’t cooperating. For a second, it felt like I was choking. </p><p>Like I was <i>being</i> choked.</p><p>When I blinked, trying to break out of the horrifying trance, Chester was gone and Connor was grinning back at me. I fought to keep the panic away. I knew about the undertones of sadism in Chester’s profile, I knew fear was what he craved, almost more than the kill itself. He loved having that power over the people he hurt, he loved hurting them emotionally as much as he loved taking their lives. </p><p>I wasn’t letting him do either to me. </p><p>“While you were doing your research, <i>Aria</i>, maybe a question or two about the security tones would’ve been a good idea,” Chester chuckled, snapping me back to the here-and-now. I’d honestly never thought I’d be able to say Connor was a better option to <i>anything</i> I was facing, but the universe just loved to prove me wrong. </p><p><i>Don’t show him how scared you are</i>, I ordered myself, forcing the terror off my face and straightening up from where I’d shrunk against the door. When he saw me literally standing up to him, Chester tossed the picture back to the table and took a step towards me. </p><p>I hadn’t even seen him move, but before Chester could even take the full step, Hotch was around the table and planted in front of me. Chester’s face twisted into brief irritation and he rolled his shoulders back, drawing up to his full height. The man between us didn’t even flinch. </p><p>“We heard the tones,” Hotch said slowly, getting another chuckle out of Chester. One of Hotch’s hands came back and he took my arm, tugging me from behind him and guiding me towards the table. </p><p>Chester turned to me the moment I was out behind Hotch, nothing between us again, but Spencer was at my side before he could make another move. As soon as Hotch let go of me, he reached out and took my hand, tugging me to his side and shifting to angle himself between me and the man that was ready to kill me.  </p><p>I was moment from melting in relief. <br/>Unable to pursue me now, Chester began to back up, but his eyes still didn’t leave mine. He kept hold of my gaze around Spencer’s arm as he leaned a shoulder up against the wall beneath the window. When I felt the dizzying panic creeping up and my vision beginning to tunnel again, I shifted a little closer and tangled my fingers into Spencer’s sweater. The hand still holding mine tightened in silent reassurance and I gave him a squeeze right back. </p><p>Chester spared a brief, dismissive glance to Hotch before looking to me again, slowly cracking his knuckles as he asked, "so you all planned to be locked inside with me, no guns or weapons, while you tempted me with my favorite little treat?”</p><p>I didn’t realize Chester was referring to <i>me</i> until he winked. My blood instantly went cold and I lost my breath again, nausea sweeping through me and swirling with the dizziness so powerfully I had to press closer to Spencer to keep myself steady. </p><p>"I won't need a gun."</p><p>Hotch’s simple statement was more surprising than almost everything else that had happened today. The threatening tone in those five words was so powerful it finally got Chester’s eyes off me.</p><p>Was he… had <i>Hotch</i> just threatened <i>Chester</i>?!</p><p>Not even looking from Chester, Hotch waved a hand at Spencer and I, ushering us back from him. Well, I guess that answered my question. Spencer complied instantly, beginning to shuffle back to the table, pulling me along with him. </p><p>As soon as we started to move, though, Chester’s eyes were back on me. His smile widened as he taunted, “where are you going, Aria? I just want to thank you.” I tried to hide the confusion on my face but couldn’t mask it fast enough. Chester spotted my expression and suddenly the smile fell off his face as he told me coldly, “you see, once I kill you, there's no way they're gonna execute me next week. You saved my life by coming here, doll. So <i>thank you</i>.”</p><p>He was going to kill me. </p><p>Of course, I knew that was his motive the moment he said the guards wouldn’t be coming, but to hear him say it out loud? <i>Keep it together, Aria. Keep it together,</i> I chanted, clinging to Spencer, barely stopping myself from spiraling into the panic attack that was just moments away. <i>The more fear you show, the more control he has. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be –</i></p><p>"Well unfortunately for you, <i>I'm</i> not a five-foot tall college student trapped at your mercy,” Hotch cut in as he stepped towards Chester. I looked over to him, not believing that I’d just heard him threaten a serial killer twice in just a couple of minutes. </p><p>He was glaring at Chester, who was still staring at me. When I made the mistake of meeting his eyes once more his own narrowed dangerously and he started,</p><p>"No, but that terrified little girl is, and she’s mine –“</p><p>"You're not laying a hand on her." </p><p>The certainty in Hotch’s voice so unwavering that it got all three of us to turn and look at him now. He’d stepped even closer to Chester, and now he – hold on. He was taking his suit jacket off?!</p><p>Sure enough, Hotch tossed the jacket to the ground. Oh my god, he was getting ready to fight. Chester, both intrigued and affronted at the unhindered challenge, pushed off the wall as he began to pace, listening as Hotch continued, </p><p>"All your life, you've gone after victims who couldn't fight back. The rest of the time you spent looking over your shoulder, worried about the knock on the door, scared that someone like me would be on the other side ready to put you away."</p><p>Now Hotch tugged his tie off and threw it down with his jacket; Chester’s lip drew back in a sneer. Mid-pacing, he turned himself towards Spencer and I, his blue eyes dark with burning fury. Both of us tensed, but before he could even think of starting after us Hotch stepped in his path and jammed a finger at him, stopping him in his tracks.  </p><p>"At your core, you're a <i>coward</i>."</p><p>Again, for a heartbeat, everyone in the room froze as we all processed what Hotch had just done. The man was a profiler; he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how to diffuse a situation at the drop of a hat, but he also knew how to provoke a psychopath into unbridled rage. </p><p>Chester snarled and surged for Hotch, who braced for the impact. Panic for Hotch’s safety took over and I turned to rush for him, ready to help. Spencer’s hand tightened almost painfully around my own as he hauled me back behind him so fast I nearly fell. </p><p>Desperately I tried to pull free, mouth open to shout Chester’s name as a distraction, just as Spencer rushed out, </p><p>"Chester, do you want to know why you killed those women?" </p><p>I knew Spencer was a genius, but sometimes that fact slipped my mind until he did something absolutely incredible. Like, for instance, stopping an unhinged psychopath in mid-attack with a single question. Chester stood just a foot from Hotch, still staring him down, but unable to move forward; Spencer had frozen him in place. </p><p>For a couple moments, the two alpha males in the room held each other’s furious stare before Chester’s eyes flicked towards us. He was a narcissist; he couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay when it came to hearing about himself. It was one of the reasons we’d guessed Chester had agreed to speak with us, and Spencer was taking our assumption and running with it. </p><p>Finally, he couldn’t resist anymore. Chester took a heaving breath, and gave Spencer another side glance. “What?”</p><p>“Earlier, you said the women you killed meant nothing to you. I-I can tell you why you killed them, and why you are <i>what</i> you are.”</p><p>At the same time Chester turned to face us completely, Spencer slid to the side to put himself completely between Chester and I, keeping me out of harm’s way even while also keeping Hotch safe. Even still trapped in the room, I felt safe now that I was fully out of his sight. The hand I had tangled in his sweater tightened, and I leaned forward to rest my forehead against the back of Spencer’s arm. His hand squeezed mine once more in assurance as Chester asked doubtfully, </p><p>“You can tell me why I did the things I did?”</p><p>Boom. </p><p>Spencer had hit the nail on the head effortlessly, and he’d hooked Chester in without the guy even knowing. Realizing it just as I had, he nodded quickly and said, “I think so. I do. Your… your mother’s bipolar, and… almost certainly an undifferentiated schizophrenic. Your father suffered severe shell shock in the war. It-it’s what we now refer to as post-traumatic stress disorder. As far as I can tell, he remained clinically depressed the rest of his life. 53% of all serial killers have some form of mental illness in their family. In your case, both your parents suffered from psychological disorders, which they largely took out on you. Though, they probably beat each other as much as they beat you, so violence became a natural expression of love.”</p><p>Had we been anywhere else, I would’ve gasped. Even silent, I knew Spencer could feel my surprise. I mean, I was all but glued to his back at this point. His last sentence was nearly word-for-word what I’d mentioned last night. In fact, some of what he’d sprinkled in had been in the report I’d given to Hotch. </p><p>At some point last night, he must’ve asked to read it, and knowing he’d gone out of his way to do so – and that he was now quoting my profile to save our lives – had a small bubble of warmth rising up in my chest. </p><p>I’d focus on that sweet sentiment later, though. Y’know, given that we got out of this in one piece… Spencer just continued on like there <i>wasn’t</i> a murderer staring us down, looking ready to jump the table between us and take us out. “There’s something called the hypothalamic region of the limbic system. It’s the most primitive part of the brain. It wants what it wants, without conscience and without judgement. It’s what makes babies cry when they’re hungry, scream when they want affection, become enraged when a toy is taken away…”</p><p>As Spencer continued on, going a mile a minute and dragging Chester on right behind him, I saw Hotch slowly shifting backwards. Oh thank <i>god</i>, he was backing down from the fist fight with a psychopath. He felt my eyes on him and he moved until he could meet my stare from where I was all but huddled against Spencer. </p><p>He furrowed his brows, then flicked his eyes to Chester before looking back at me: <i>are you okay</i>?</p><p>After giving a small, terse nod, I raised my brows at him: <i>are YOU</i>?</p><p>Only when I got a nod in return did I let myself tune back into Spencer. He was still going and, as I’d missed at least a paragraph’s worth of information, I was totally lost. Honestly at this point, I didn’t even know if <i>he</i> knew where he was going. He was just trying to buy us the rest of the thirteen minutes, and we had to be close now. </p><p>He’d kept his hand in mine – not like I’d have let him take it, honestly – and I subtly turned his arm just a hint to peek at the watch he had done up over his sweater sleeve. 5:28. Just a couple more minutes, and the guards would be here! </p><p>I dared to peek around Spencer’s arm to see what Chester was doing. To my surprise, he was still fully caught up in the lecture he was being given. He’d moved to lean forward on the table, but he looked much less like he wanted to kill any of us.</p><p>Now he was so focused on what Spencer was saying, he didn’t even notice as I hedged out from behind him just a little more. Okay, serial killer or not, I couldn’t help but feel a little good seeing someone hanging on the brilliant doctor’s every word. </p><p>“No functioning sexual partner will ever willingly submit to the painful desires that you have,” he was explaining, the hand I wasn’t currently crushing with my own waving wildly in the air. “The only way you can serve them is by making a partner compliant, making sure they do exactly what you want them to do. And you ensure that by killing them.”</p><p>At those words, Chester’s eyes snapped to me so suddenly that this time I <i>did</i> gasp. He leaned a little closer, fingers curling over the table as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. Spencer managed to get his hand back from me but it didn’t go far. He reached out and put his arm across me, nudging me back out of view. </p><p>As he did so, I saw the time again: 5:30. Any minute now… </p><p>God, it’d better be soon, because now I could tell Chester was losing patience. I heard the table creak as he pushed off it to stand, and to my left I saw Hotch beginning to tense again.  We were on the edge of imploding again, and Spencer realized it. He straightened himself up a bit more and said, </p><p>“Chester… when you were arrested, you told the officer that your victims never had a chance…” he was speaking slowly, buying as many extra moments that he could, until <i>there</i>! A faint distant buzz of the outer doors being opened. The guards were here! “I think you know that, deep down… it was <i>you</i> who never really had a chance.”</p><p>The echo of the lock clicking open was the most beautiful sound I’d heard in years. It set all four of us into one last bout of charged silence, making the guards pause as they came inside. Their concern at our silence only doubled when they saw the state of disarray the room was in. Hotch’s jacket and tie on the ground really just pulled it all together. </p><p>“Everything alright in here?” one of the guards asked, glancing between Hotch and Chester. The question broke the silence and Hotch gave a swift nod, stalking up to the table and beginning to gather files again. </p><p>“Fine. We’re done,” he told them, giving the go-ahead to put the cuffs back onto Chester. As they clicked into place (the noise just as relieving as the door unlocking had been) he looked back to us. “Reid, Aria, I’ll meet you outside.”</p><p>Spencer nodded, then turned so quickly I didn’t register he’d even moved until suddenly he was bundling me ahead of him for the door. As we passed by him, Chester’s head swiveled to follow us. This time, now, he wasn’t focused on me. </p><p>He was looking after Spencer almost desperately, like all that Spencer had said wasn’t enough. Like he wasn’t ready to end <i>Trivia Time with Dr. Reid.</i> I didn’t blame him; the bits and pieces I’d caught had been unbelievably interesting. I actually kind of regretted turning out for sixty seconds and missing the majority of what he’d said. Maybe when my heart went back to a normal rhythm I’d ask for a recap. For now, all I wanted was to get out of the world’s tiniest holding room.</p><p>“Is that true? That I never had a chance?” Chester called to Spencer, taking a step after us. Though he was pulled back by the guards this time, Spencer all but threw me into the hall as he rushed out, </p><p>“I don’t know. Maybe.”</p><p>Laughter bubbled out of me as Spencer continued to herd me through the prison. We barely stopped long enough to let the guards give us back our weapons, and then we were off again, stumbling through the lobby and then spilling out into the fresh air. </p><p>When Spencer finally stopped, I stumbled forward a few more steps to the side of the building. Slumping against the brick, I dropped my head back and took a long, deep breath. The fresh air settling in my lungs did wonders to help settle the adrenaline racing through me. </p><p>For several moments, I didn’t know <i>what</i> to feel. Fear from, y’know, being targeted by a <i>serial killer</i>? Anger at Hotch for almost <i>fighting</i> the serial killer? Frustration at myself for freezing up like I had and being as useful as a screen door on a submarine? Fully smitten over Spencer protecting me? Proud that he’d been able to fully captivate and then outsmart a psychopathic killer with just his knowledge? Guilt because I’d insisted on going, <i>knowing</i> I fit the UnSub’s victimology and had probably been the reason Hotch and Spencer had to put themselves in the path of danger?</p><p>In true <i>Aria DiMaggio</i> fashion, I settled for all of the above. All of those emotions – and more I couldn’t even fully comprehend – came dropping onto my shoulders and suddenly tears were running down my cheeks. Feeling overwhelmed, and just a little too exposed, I buried my face in my hands and tried to take a settling breath. </p><p>Maybe it was the weight of everything hitting me now that we were safe, or maybe it was just the lack of sleep catching up to me, but suddenly I felt exhausted. If I wasn’t up against the wall, I probably would’ve just crumpled onto the ground.</p><p>"Aria, are you okay?"</p><p>Spencer’s voice was softer than I'd ever heard before, and his words wrapped gently around my frazzled mind, a warm blanket against the cold thoughts bearing down on me. As I lifted my head, I found him standing in front of me. He was bent over, shielding me from passerby’s to give me privacy. </p><p>When our eyes met, he instantly studied my expression and a hand came up to rest tentatively on my arm. I went to give an automatic answer, not wanting to burden him with all my ridiculous overthinking and melting pot of emotions. Just as I opened my mouth to insist I was fine, I stopped. </p><p>It was something that my therapist had mentioned, about how I had a tendency (well, more than a <i>tendency</i>, but she was being nice) to bottle up my emotions and hold them close to my chest. I preferred suffering in silence because I felt like I was a burden to people.</p><p>Spencer had asked. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want a genuine answer. What had Chester said? <i>Nobody gives a damn about the truth</i>. Well, I could start proving him wrong. </p><p>“Physically? Yeah. Mentally…” I took a breath, and another wayward tear slid down my cheek. A thousand different things to say swirled through my mind, but the one I finally whispered to him was, “he was gonna kill me.”</p><p>“No.” Spencer’s firm, authoritative tone caught me off guard, and my brows furrowed as I stared up at him. The hand on my arm tightened just a bit. “As long as I – um, as long as <i>we</i> were there, he wasn’t going to touch you.”</p><p>Welp, there went the little bit of control I’d had on my tears. Hearing how genuine his reply was drove home all that he and Hotch had just done for me. They’d literally put themselves between me and a serial killer on death row, fully put their lives on the line for me, without a single ounce of hesitation. </p><p>My lower lip trembled, and as my weakened dam finally broke and tears fell hot and heavy, I pushed off the wall and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face into his sweater vest. There wasn’t any hesitation from him; his own went around my shoulders and tucked me tight to his chest. </p><p>As I clung to him, letting myself work through the realization of all that’d happened, a warm hand settled on my back and added to the comfort around me. Wordlessly I pulled back from Spencer, and he practically deposited me into Hotch’s arms now. </p><p>“Are you alright?” he asked as he simultaneously hugged me to him and began to maneuver us towards the SUV. The assuring nod I gave conflicted with the watery sniffling and my blubbered reply of, </p><p>“I’m good. I’m okay.”</p><p>Spencer snorted at my very unconvincing answer, and Hotch even gave a chuckle. He patted my back and opened the door for me, a hand lingering on my back to guide me up and into my seat. The first couple miles of the drive were as silent and heavy as they had been on the way here. I was worried both of the men up front were gonna retreat back behind their defensive walls, but finally Hotch took a breath and glanced at Spencer. </p><p>“It was smart to get Hardwick to focus on himself long enough for the guards to come back. You diffused a very tense, very dangerous situation in one of the best ways possible.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I piped up, leaning forward a bit. “All parties involved <i>really</i> appreciate you being so smart.”</p><p>Spencer chuckled, meeting my eyes in the mirror briefly as he shrugged and said, “I find that I do some of my best work under intense terror.”</p><p>He and I both chuckled again, but Hotch kept a stoic face as he spared a glance between us. When he met my eyes, I raised my brows, and he said softly, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“For what?” I asked, abandoning my seatbelt to scoot forward and prop my elbows on the center console between him and Spencer.</p><p>Hotch pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows – classic <i>Aaron Hotchner Guilt Scowl</i> – and said, “I antagonized the situation.”</p><p>“No you didn’t,” I said instantly, and Spencer bobbed his head in agreement. The guilty scowl didn’t lessen. </p><p>“Well, I certainly didn’t <i>help</i>.”</p><p>I started to try and defend him, but it was Spencer that pulled a face and admitted, “ah…. I guess you really <i>didn’t</i> help.”</p><p>That got a snort out of me. Spencer ducked his head with a smile, and though I expected Hotch to join us, he gave a heavy sigh and just shook his head. Okay, I’d had it with the withheld emotions from the front seat. I nudged Hotch’s arm, and when he spared a glance at me, I prompted, </p><p>“Okay. What’s got you so worked up you were ready to go <i>Muhammad Ali</i> on Chester?” As per usual, he went to deflect and again and I nudged him a little harder. “It’s pretty clear the answer isn’t <i>nothing</i>, so either spill it, or work on a better lie.”</p><p>Alright, finally, I’d coaxed a small smile out of him. As we pulled up to a red light, he leaned back in his seat and slowly, his face slid into the sad stare I’d seen way too often on him. “Haley… she wants me to sign the divorce papers uncontested.”</p><p>My heart sunk and instantly Hotch’s behavior made perfect sense. The call from JJ this morning must’ve been Haley trying to get ahold of him, and it’d pushed him over the edge. Though Hotch was a realist, both he <i>and</i> I had been hoping Haley would start to come around. </p><p>Maybe she’d maybe give him another chance or at least a little more time, but with how fast things were moving it was becoming more and more clear that this was something that she’d been wanting to do for a while. And every step forward in the process drove that pain a little deeper into Hotch’s already-aching heart. </p><p>“She doesn’t want money spent on lawyers,” Spencer guessed; Hotch gave a single, terse nod. The car went quiet for a few moments before Spencer prompted, “is that what <i>you</i> want?”</p><p>“What I want, I’m not going to get,” he said simply, clearly not wanting to discuss it any further. I wanted to dig deeper and push him now that he was finally opening up, but considering he’d just been ready to fist-fight a serial killer, I figured I should drop it. </p><p>So, instead, I did the best thing I could think of. I sighed, slumped forward, and leaned my head against his arm to offer him the best support I could muster. “I’m sorry. That really sucks.”</p><p>Hotch finally chuckled, and I could see a small smile on his face in the rearview. “It does. Now, sit back and buckle yourself in again. When <i>I’m</i> driving, we follow all the traffic laws.”</p><p>I knew he could feel my pout, and I pointedly didn’t move. Admittedly, I was pretty comfy. After three hours of sleep and having had so much adrenaline coursing through me I could’ve powered a small town, I was wiped.</p><p>“Only the front-seat passengers are required to wear a belt,” I told him. This time, instead of meeting my eyes in the rearview, he turned to frown down at me; I gave him my cheekiest smile. “I’m not breaking any laws.” </p><p>“<i>Technically</i>, no,” Spencer admitted, instantly setting off the butterflies. I’d missed hearing him say that. “You would, however, be considered an unrestrained object. While not necessarily illegal, you pose a greater threat to both Hotch and I, as well as anyone or anything we’d hit.”</p><p>Alright, he had a point. I couldn’t let him win that easily though. “Are you saying I need to buckle up because Hotch can’t drive?”</p><p>“Just because he’s right doesn’t mean you need to attack me,” Hotch pointed out with a bemused smile. “Put your seatbelt on. I prefer all objects secured when I’m driving.” </p><p>“I’m not an <i>object</i>,” I huffed, admittedly not having anything better to defend myself with. </p><p>“You are until you put your seatbelt on,” Hotch argued right back, and caught my eye in the mirror again to add, “and <i>objects</i> don’t get lunch.”</p><p>I gasped, actually affronted he’d use a toddler bargaining tactic. Well, admittedly, I was more upset it actually worked. I was hungry, okay?! Begrudgingly, muttering under my breath, I slumped back in the seat. He raised an eyebrow, and I reluctantly clicked my belt back on. </p><p>“There. Buckled and secured. Now, what are we eating?”</p><p>Spencer and Hotch both shrugged, and the scruffy doctor offered, “I mean, Thai sounds good –“</p><p>“<i>No</i>,” I groaned, playfully scowling when he peeked at me over his shoulder. “Thai’s too spicy!”</p><p>“Most restaurants have mild options,” Hotch began, and Spencer shook his head. </p><p>“According to Aria, the mild selections are still too spicy.”</p><p>Hotch snorted and I bit back my own giggle as I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t appreciate being tag-teamed on this. Besides, as the person who was just blackmailed with the promise of lunch, I think <i>I</i> get to pick –”</p><p>Both of the men up front made noises of disagreements, and we all dissolved into playful bickering for the rest of the ride back to the airport. For a couple hours, we weren’t weighed down with impending divorces or any of the Unsubs or cases that haunted us. Hotch wasn’t fighting off heartbreak and Spencer wasn’t pulling away from me. </p><p>For a couple hours, we were all together, and things were okay. For now, that was good enough.  </p><p>--</p><p>“You are <i>never</i> leaving me again!” Penelope informed me, her arm linked tightly with my own as she walked me back to the bullpen. “It’s bad enough when you have to go to class, but having you multiple states away from me is <i>not</i> allowed.”</p><p>Laughing, I leaned against my best friend as I let her lead the way, more relieved to be back in Quantico than she’d know. Hotch, Spencer, and I had all agreed to keep all that had happened quiet for now. With what had happened, all of us would need to include it in our case writeup, and Hotch had explained that, more than likely, Chester’s execution <i>would</i> be pushed back now. Until it was confirmed, he didn’t want the team badgering us about the details. </p><p>Which, of course, was absolute torture for Penelope Garcia. As we reached the lobby, she tugged me to a stop and turned me to face her. Sure enough, she had her puppy dog eyes on again. </p><p>“Penny, I told you I can’t –“</p><p>“<i>Aria</i>, I’m dying for information!” she whined, holding tighter to me and nearly making me lose my balance. “You interviewed <i>Chester Hardwick</i> and you can’t even tell me <i>anything</i> you talked about?”</p><p>“Okay, okay. Fine, I’ll give you <i>one</i> thing, and that’s it,” I offered. She perked up and I gave her a wide grin. “He confirmed that Baby Spice is the best Spice Girl. Which proves me right.”</p><p>Penelope threw up her hands. “That’s – he so did not! And <i>you are not</i>! Scary Spice is <i>totally</i> the best!”</p><p>“What can I say? You’ll read about it in the report,” I shrugged, giving her a swift wink. As she continued to pout at me, the elevator doors slid open, and the rest of the team spilled out into the lobby around us. Before any of them could even greet us, Penelope was demanding,  </p><p>“Em and Jayje, we’re having a girl’s night this weekend and settling the Spice Girls debate once and for all!”</p><p>Both of them lit up, and JJ actually clapped excitedly as I pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh, good! Finally we’ll all accept Sporty Spice as our girl’s night mascot!”</p><p>Before Penelope or I could object, Emily pried JJ off of me and took her turn in a hug, looking back with a frown as she argued, “absolutely not. Ginger Spice is the best and no, I’m not taking criticism.”</p><p>All four of us briefly glared at one another as Morgan and Rossi came up to join us. Morgan folded his arms in faux disappointment and asked, “what, <i>we</i> don’t get an invite to girl’s night?”</p><p>JJ turned to him and crossed her arms right back. “Depends. Who’s your favorite Spice Girl?”</p><p>“Count me out,” Rossi deflected instantly, skirting past us into the bullpen. Morgan, on his turn for a hug with me, roped me to his side as he said, “Posh Spice, obviously. You don’t get better than Victoria Beckham, ladies.”</p><p>“Nope, no invite for you,” Penelope decided as she headed back to her office, waving him off. “<i>Unless</i> you can get Aria to tell me what happened with Chester Hardwick!”</p><p>Emily, JJ, Morgan, <i>and</i> Rossi all <i>ooh</i>’d and turned to look at me, but I shook my head. “Nope. That’s off the table. So, you either pick Baby Spice as the best, or you’re out,” I declared, trying to push him off me as he went to ruffle my hair. He scoffed and just held me tighter, ruffling away. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. You’ll be callin’ me, beggin’ me to come liven up the night like you always do,” he scoffed, playfully pushing me to the desk as he looked over to the man watching us with a bemused smile. “Pretty boy! How was Connecticut? Lil miss sunshine apparently doesn’t wanna spill the beans.”</p><p>Spencer caught my eye and, though he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. We were back, and now the walls were starting to go up again.</p><p>“Ultimately uneventful,” he offered, and then looked past me to Rossi and added, “uh, sir? There’s somebody waiting to speak to you in your office.”</p><p>All of us turned to look up where Spencer had pointed, just in time to see no other than Kevin Lynch strolling out onto the walkway. The grin that took over my face was borderline painful. And, to my surprise, I saw JJ doing the same thing. We looked at each other in surprise and I whispered,</p><p>“Do you know about the shower?!”</p><p>“I know about the shower!” she whispered back, and we both dissolved into giggles as Kevin cleared his throat and asked, </p><p>“Agent Rossi? We need to talk… about Penelope… Man to man.” </p><p>JJ nodded up at him in support as I gave him a quick thumbs up. Emily turned to the both of us, jaw nearly on the floor. “You – what do you two know!?”</p><p>“<i>What</i> about Penelope?!” Morgan demanded from us, looking after Rossi as he made his way up to speak with Kevin.  JJ and I shared a sly smile. </p><p>“<i>Penny and Kevin, sittin’ in a tree…</i>,” JJ and I teased as she made for her office. I grabbed my case notes off the desk, backing for Hotch’s office as I gave the group a wink. Emily was still gaping after me. </p><p>“Okay, yeah, we have a <i>lot</i> to cover on girl’s night,” she decided, putting her hands up and walking after JJ, shaking her head. Morgan and Spencer had fallen into a heated discussion – Morgan was probably explaining the song, if I had to take a guess – so I’d leave them to it. </p><p>Though I knocked, Hotch didn’t look up, but he motioned me in with the jerk of his head. As I got closer to his desk, I saw the papers he was signing: </p><p>
  <i>MARITAL SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT</i>
</p><p>“I know she’ll appreciate you doing it the way she prefers,” I said softly, giving him a tiny smile when he finally looked up at me. His eyes, softened with tears, briefly met my gaze before they dropped back down to the papers in his hand. </p><p>Hotch cleared his throat, nodded and tucked them away before he said softly, “I think you’re right. And… you’re certain you don’t mind watching Jack on Saturday for me?”</p><p>“Not at all,” I promised, setting my file on his desk, knowing he wasn’t in the mood for company. As much as <i>I</i> wanted to break out the wine in Rossi’s office and steal some of Penelope’s candy for an all-night heart-to-heart, I was pretty sure that was what Hotch would describe as his own personal hell. </p><p>So, instead, I just came around the desk and pulled him into a brief side hug. He gave a heavy sigh, leaning into my hold for just a moment before I pulled back and patted his shoulder. As I got to the door, just about to leave, he called out, “thank you, Aria. For all you’re doing.”</p><p>“You never need to thank me, Hotch,” I promised, giving him a small smile. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>He gave a nod in goodbye and I left him to his sullen night of paperwork, knowing he’d probably be here for another couple of hours. Instead, I’d work on cracking the other Gloomy Gus on the team. Spencer was determined to pull away from me, and I was refusing to let that happen. </p><p><i>I’ll invite him to girl’s night. Or, maybe Jack and I can take him to the park on Saturday,</i> I thought, scurrying down the ramp. As I turned to the desk, I smiled and started, </p><p>“So, Scruff, I was thinking, if you’re not –“</p><p>Spencer’s desk was empty. </p><p>I was so surprised to see the vacant seat I came to a full stop. Maybe he was getting a tenth cup of coffee? I glanced around the bullpen, but Spencer was nowhere to be found. Morgan and Emily were bickering in the break area, and Rossi was having his manly talk with Kevin, but there was no sign of Spencer. </p><p>When I turned back to his desk, my heart fell right through my stomach and hit the ground. His satchel was gone. He’d left for the night. He’d… he’d really just <i>left</i>? He’d never gone home without saying goodnight to me.</p><p>There was no doubt in my mind: what Jack Vaughn had done had really hit Spencer hard. I knew how hard it hit <i>me</i>, but Spencer was really taking it to heart. From our brief talks in the last week, he hadn’t been to any kind of therapist – BAU appointed or not. If the murder we’d witnessed was affecting <i>me</i>, and I was getting help… how hard was it for him <i>without</i> support?</p><p><i>He wouldn’t be alone in this if he’d just let me help,</i> I thought bitterly, snatching up my things, more than ready to call it a day. As I called out my goodbyes to Em and Morgan, heading for Penelope’s office, I realized my thought was true for both Spencer <i>and</i> Hotch. </p><p>Both of the guys that meant the most to me on the team were hurting, and they were too stubborn to let me help them. As much as I hated to admit it, there really wasn’t anything I could do until they let me in.</p><p>So, until then, I’d just take care of myself and make sure <i>I</i> was okay. When they finally did admit they didn’t need to go through their trouble alone, I’d be ready to help. Which, after all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours alone, meant that a girl’s night with the BAU ladies was just what I needed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday, you sweet lil souls! </p><p>I hope you had a great week! So sorry posting was a little later today than normal. I got called into work last minute and didn't have time to get everything formatted to post! Hopefully this is a good end to your night, though!</p><p>I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for SO long, I'm dying to hear your thoughts on how it all went down with Chester! I know that in the show, he's assumed to be executed after their interview, but... I like him too much to just be done with him, so I'll let you know now that Chester Hardwick will indeed be making another appearance down the road! What are your thoughts on that?</p><p>If you couldn't tell, the much-anticipated girl's night chapter is coming up next week! I've taken a bunch of your suggestions and will be mixing them in, if you have any other ideas for the BAU girls I'd love to hear them! </p><p>Thank you guys so much for all your support! You make my days so much better! My birthday is this Wednesday, and I'd love nothing more than to hear your thoughts on the story so far, it'd really mean the world to me! So if you've got a couple minutes, please let me know what you think!</p><p>Have an absolutely beautiful week, everyone!</p>
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